Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions
by Assassin master ezio 91
Summary: Westeros is in turmoil; the aftermath of Blackwater and the Red Wedding have left the armies scattered. Having narrowly escaped death in their own way, the remaining Starks seek each other out; hoping to reunite their shattered family. Robb burns with vengeance against the Frey's; but will he take it? Part one of a series.
1. Prologue

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Prologue of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy :)

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R R Martin.

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**Prologue**

The road was deserted; his was the only cart for miles around. The old man smiled at that. The ghost stories about Harrenhal had scared away all but the bravest of merchants; only those with a mission dared risk selling their wares there. The old man was stooped with a crooked back, and blind in his left eye. The remaining one peered out, an emotionless beady black eye. Apart from the short, sparse, greying black beard there was no hair on his head, not even for eyebrows. He was thin, wrinkled, and had very few teeth left and was clad in dark travelling clothes. He gave the cart horses a whip to keep them moving. He glanced back at his cargo; several sacks and boxes, all containing food and supplies for the castle stores. Or at least, that's what the disguise appeared as. Following the incident at Blackwater, the old man's master, King Stannis Baratheon, wanted revenge. So, on the guidance of his red witch, he had his loyal alchemists brew up their own Wildfire. Every item in the cart was hollowed out and carrying the volatile substance. Now they had chosen a target: Harrenhal. It had taken a long time to pull the plan together; several months had passed since Blackwater and it was only now that the Wildfire was ready to use. The war was still going but not with its usual fervour. Despite this, King Stannis was determined to deal a devastating blow to the enemy.

The old man smiled when he spotted Harrenhal, he was close to his destination now. He urged the horses onwards and before long they were at the gate. The two guards standing at the gate wore the Lannister sigil; the gold lion on a red field. They looked bored and were likely hoping their relief would arrive soon. The old man sneered when he saw them, they looked up but his lack of eyebrows made his expression difficult to read. They probably thought he was merely smiling at them.

'_Fools.'_ He thought bitterly, _'Witless fools. How they defeated his grace, King Stannis, I will never know.'_

They stopped leaning on their pikes and stood straight as he brought his cart to a halt before them.

"We'll need to check your cart, peddler." The nearest guard said. The old man nodded and offered no argument.

One of the guards headed to the back of the cart while the first spoke directly to him.

"What do you have in your cart?" He asked.

'_Just some Wildfire to blow your castle up.'_ He thought gleefully, but with a neutral voice he replied. "Bread, fruits, supplies for the castle stores."

The second guard confirmed this; he didn't even suspect the goods were concealing Wildfire. Soon the old man was allowed through and he rode casually into the castle.

He looked around carefully; the stables were to his left. That would be where he set it off. Most of the buildings in the area are wood; they would burn easily and allow the fire to spread.

His smug grin was cut short as one of the horses shied and began to rear. He briefly panicked before a figure approached and took the horse in hand, calming it. The old man breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the man who had aided him. He carefully scrutinized the stranger. The man was tall and thin, and had long hair that was red on one side and white on the other. The younger man's dark eyes seemed to bore holes into elder man's skull. Swallowing his discomfort the old man smiled.

"My thanks, friend." He said carefully.

The stranger's cold eyes seemed to glint as a small smile graced his lips.

"A man carries a dangerous cargo." He stated much to the old man's shock.

"I don't know what you-" He stuttered, taken aback by the stranger's comment.

"Now the man lies. You carry the dangerous fire; a man knows a trick when he sees it."

Totally shocked at this the old man looked around, hoping nobody had heard. The only other people nearby was a tall muscular boy working in the forge, and with him a skinny young girl. Her hair was cut short, trying to pass as a boy no doubt. The disguise nearly worked had he not looked carefully.

The old man, relieved nobody had overheard, turned back to the strange man.

"Why I-I don't know who you think you are boy..."

The man smiled again. "These men are no friends of this man...This man will not stop you...Just allow him to get to the other side of the castle, far enough away first."

The old man considered the stranger's proposal before he wordlessly nodded his approval. He studied the retreating form of the stranger. What if this was some kind of trick? He glanced back at the two at the forge; they were talking in low voices but hadn't seen him. He got out of the cart and dropped to the ground. He straightened out as much as his hunch would allow and grunted slightly in frustration as he turned to the back of the cart. He stepped up onto it and observed the yard; more people were approaching. Perfect, now was the time.

He picked up a melon and examined it carefully. Without as much as a second thought he released it. The fruit hit the cart and split open. The wildfire contained within exploded and the force detonated the others. The explosion was immense! He had severely underestimated the strength of the Wildfire. He had taken this mission knowing that it was suicide. However nothing prepared him for the force of the blast.

As he lay burning he saw the damage, almost all the buildings were engulfed in a wave of sickly green. A large gaping hole in the fortified wall demonstrated its handiwork. The rest of the wall looked precariously close to collapsing. He heard screams not his own over the roaring flames. He had just enough strength left to look and see its source.

The boy he had seen earlier was on the ground; his clothes were singed- but he was soaked? He was lying on top of the girl, who like him was also soaked. She was covering her eyes, screaming. He noted there were angry red patches forming on her right side cheek, neck and hand. Then he saw the strange man, who had kept his secret, approach the two young ones as they lay on the ground writhing in pain.

Finally the burning was too intense. His vision blurred and he knew no more but the agonizing pain of the flames; until even that disappeared and all there was, was black.

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End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	2. Catelyn I

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy :)

**Reviews**

**superfresh: Here you go, here's the next chapter.  
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Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R. R. Martin.

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**Catelyn**

The hard forest floor with its gnarled roots and leaves was hardly the most comfortable. But to Catelyn, who had been running and going without sleep for so long, it felt almost as good as the best featherbed. Following the disaster at the Red Wedding she had been on the run, fearing for her life. As far as she knew almost everybody there had been lost; precious few escaped. Her one relief came from the fact that Robb has escaped. They had been separated when she had been forced to run a different way, but she knew he had escaped. She had seen him mount a horse and ride as if the wind itself was chasing him. After that she had ran and never dared to look back; her horse had perished only three days ago, or was it four, she could not remember. She did remember, with fear, that her brother Edmure was still in the hands of the Freys.

_'Is he even alive now, I wonder?'_ She thought fearfully.

She lay into a fitful sleep where she dreamed terrible dreams. She was awoken some time later by the sound of beating hooves. She leapt to her feet.

_'Not more of them?'_

Everyday she heard hoof beats: she hid each time and watched as riders bearing the Frey banner rode past, searching for her. Now she no longer had the strength to hide.

She waited in suspenseful agony, the cold fingers of fear closing like a vice around her heart. Her hands groped at her waist for a dagger that was not there. However she then saw the riders, and felt like all the weight left her body. She fell back and sat on the ground. The banner was not the twin towers of Freys, but the fish of the Tully's. Her breath came out in short gasps as she waited. The riders approached and stopped before her; she looked up and saw the leader of the group; it was her uncle Brynden. The moment he saw her he dismounted and hurried to her, kneeling down level with her.

"Cat?" He didn't ask if she was alright, his tone said it all. She nodded slowly.

Finally, as Brynden exhaled heavily, his relief obvious, she found her voice. "I thought I'd never see a friendly face again; nevermind one of my own family."

Brynden nodded and managed a smile as he embraced his niece. "I am greatly relieved to find you safe and sound... But... What of the others?... What of your brother, what of his Grace, King Robb?"

Catelyn sighed and answered. "I do not know where Robb has gone, but I know he lives... Edmure lives too; he is a prisoner of the Frey's."

"We'll get him back." Brynden promised as he assisted her to her feet and helped her to mount a spare horse. Catelyn was too tired to ask him where they were going, so she decided to wait and see. She followed as he led the riders back the way they came, heading for whatever destination they had in mind.

When Brynden told her they had arrived she noticed they were at a camp; no banners were flying, however the men she saw were definitely those in service to Robb. They dismounted their horses and her uncle began to lead her to a tent.

"You'll want some rest, proper sleep; this tent is yours Cat…"

She stopped him, "Uncle I… I understand that you are trying to look out for me, but… I would like to see who is in charge here."

He smiled and led her to the largest tent, clearly the commander's tent. They walked over and he lifted the flap and she stepped in. Standing at the head table and pouring over a map was Jon Umber. He looked up and when he saw Catelyn, his face split into a wide smile. He stepped around the table and walked over.

"My Lady, you are safe, this is great news!" He remarked jovially; her uncle then explained.

"Lord Umber and I share command of what remains of the army just now."

Catelyn nodded and smiled; _'The Blackfish and the Greatjon, the army is in good hands.'_

The Greatjon seemed restless. "My Lady, have you… do you know if…?"

"My son lives still; I do not know where he is but he is alive."

That seemed to relieve him and he nodded. However she noticed he was still troubled.

"Something troubles you, what is it?" She asked.

There was silence and then Brynden spoke. "Cat, this isn't the best time." He stated; "You are tired and…"

She shook her head. "No, I must know what is going on." There was silence again as she waited for an answer.

Finally, after a long time, Greatjon sighed and answered. "The men are restless; it turns out the Westerlings were part of a Lannister plot. It was Sybell Spicer's doing; it turns out she was giving her daughter Moon Tea; not fertility herbs." He paused and then shook his head. "It was apparent that Queen Jeyne was married to Robb to drive a wedge between us and the Frey's. Yet… I for one don't believe Queen Jeyne had a knowing part in the ploy."

Brynden spoke then, although Cat barely heard his words through her shock.

"Nor I. I don't believe it either; she loved his Grace, truly." He shook his head. "She was her mother's unwitting puppet, as much as any of us."

Finally Catelyn found her voice. "What is to happen to her?" Brynden shook his head.

"We don't believe she is guilty, but the men are not convinced, they've demanded a trial."

The words chilled Catelyn to the bone; she had every faith that her uncle and the Greatjon were right. But the trial was likely to go against Jeyne, as without any of the other Westerlings or people who knew about the plot was present, there would be nobody to confirm or even aid her and her story. Her mind was racing as she was led to her tent to rest. She wanted to visit Jeyne but her uncle insisted that she get a proper night's sleep first; Jeyne's trial was to take place in two days. Finally, she accepted and managed to sleep, despite her fears and worries.

The following day she prepared herself and went to visit Jeyne. She was shown to the guarded tent and was allowed inside. She looked around the tent; despite the guards the tent was well decorated and had every comfort imaginable. It occurred to Catelyn that Jeyne Westerling was, right now, the most comfortable prisoner in Westeros. The young queen looked up when Catelyn entered and smiled.

"My Lady, I am glad to see you safe. I heard such terrible things." She stated, Catelyn nodded and returned the smile.

"I am relieved to be back your Grace." She replied. "I have heard about the things that have happened since my absence."

Jeyne lowered her head. "I would never betray my King, how can anyone suspect me…?"

"Your family's actions have made things look black against you, your Grace." Catelyn explained, "But I do not believe you to be guilty, neither does my uncle or the Greatjon. They are trying to appease their men but it will be difficult. I do have good news for you. Robb lives."

Jeyne brightened up at that but then her face fell again. "That is good news, but what good will it do me, if I do not live to see his return?"

Catelyn sighed. "I will find some way to help you out of this bind your Grace. I promise."

With that she left, wondering just what she could do to help Jeyne.

As she walked through the camp she heard word that a rider had arrived, and was looking for her. She hurried to where the rider was said to be and she was met with the familiar tall woman.

"Brienne." She gasped. The warrior woman turned to face her and nodded politely in acknowledgment.

"My Lady, I am relieved to find you." She replied. "I had heard about this _Red Wedding_ on my way back. I rode as hard as I could to return."

Catelyn looked around questioningly, but only Brienne stood in the clearing; she turned back to her. "Brienne, my daughters?" Brienne's sad expression sent fear into her heart again.

"I apologize, my Lady, I have failed you." Brienne stated before explaining. "Your younger daughter has been missing since your lord husband's death. Your eldest daughter has been missing since the Battle of Blackwater. Some say she was taken away from the city by 'The Hound'."

Catelyn shuddered, she remember Sandor Clegane, the tall man with the burned face. Her daughter's weren't in King's Landing; so that was why the Lannisters refused their terms. As she thought of this she thought again of Jeyne and suddenly an idea occurred to her; Brienne had returned at the perfect time.

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End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	3. Sansa I

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**Emeloo2: Thanks, glad you are enjoying it :)  
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SmartiesChocolate222: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it :) **

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R. R. Martin

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**Sansa**

Sansa looked around cautiously, making sure she was still hidden by the trees. The Kingsroad appeared deserted. However that didn't mean it was; if it was easy enough for her to hide, then it was surely a lot easier for more dangerous people to hide. She sighed and shook her head.

"If we're to make it to Robb's camp...We'll have to cross over the road at some point." She announced to her companion.

She glanced back at him as he replied in his raspy voice. "Aye, but now's not the time, we're still fine where we are."

She turned around to face him. Sandor Clegane sat with his back against a rock; as far from the campfire as possible. The burned side of his face looked even more haggard in the light of the flames. She walked over and sat down opposite him; the fire between them. She exhaled heavily before thinking back.

_Shortly after she returned to her room during the Battle of Blackwater; she had found him there; the Hound, Sandor Clegane. She had been terrified yet when he announced he was leaving and heading north, and offered to take her home, her heart skipped a beat. She had hesitated, fearful of him, but then accepted his offer and he had smuggled her out of King's Landing before the battle was even over. They had journeyed ever since, taking meandering routes and crossing through and up streams in order to throw off any possible pursuit. It was only recently they had arrived here, with the Kingsroad in sight._

She shuddered, and not because it was cold; throughout the escape, and even now, she felt light headed and even had a strange buzzing sensation in her limbs. She knew what she was doing was dangerous, yet it felt strangely exciting, perhaps because of that.

'_Is this how Bran felt whenever he climbed the towers back home?'_ She wondered, she remembered him talking about it once before, it definitely sounded similar. _'Arya supposedly felt like this too; whenever she did something she wasn't supposed to.'_

She shifted uncomfortably as her mind wandered to her family. She knew her father was gone, never coming back, but the others...her mother, Robb, Bran, Rickon, even Arya and Jon; she missed them all.

'_We'll find them...I know we will.'_ She promised herself. _'We're going to find Robb and mother right now. I just wish I knew what happened to the others. Jon is at the Wall, but the whereabouts of the others are unknown...even to someone like Varys.'_

Sandor seemed to notice her silence and preoccupation; there was a brief pause before he spoke.

"What are you thinking?" He asked.

Sansa jumped but then relaxed. "I was thinking about my family...I just wish I knew where they all were. All we know is that my half-brother is at the Wall and that Robb and my mother were last seen near the Twins."

Sandor did not reply, but the look on his face said it all; and it was surprising. Pity, that was what she saw in his face, he actually pitied her.

It was a restless night but she was able to get some sleep. A wonder in fact; they had hardly stopped since they had fled King's Landing. When Sansa felt she could go no further Sandor had picked her up and carried her until finally even he had to stop. Now, with the sun rising Sandor insisted they press on.

"The longer we delay here, the less likely we are to find your brother at his camp." He explained. "We best hurry."

She agreed and, despite still feeling weary, helped ensure the fire was completely out and followed him as they travelled through the forest. Sandor kept his sword drawn as they went; they did not dare venture onto the Kingsroad, but still kept it in sight as they pressed on. They soon faced their first real problem however; the food that had was running low and they would soon need more, and fresher food too. Sandor scowled at the thought. He knew the dangers this posed to them.

"Well, seems we're at a difficult situation, little bird." He told her. "Either we keep going and risk starvation, or we risk getting captured and returned to the Queen. With our food this low and the Queen after our heads, going into town is both necessary _and_ foolish."

Sansa nodded, he was right. They could either starve, or risk being recognised buying supplies in the next village (and handed off to the Queen, who would not welcome them back with open arms). They had stopped next to a river with a small holdfast just ahead. Sansa, by chance, glanced at the river and noted her reflection. The near constant travel and sleepless nights had left her looking dishevelled; knowing that she wasn't going to be travelling in luxury, she was clad in her plainest dress.

Thanks to their travels the dress was stained and looking more like it belonged to a girl of low birth; her hair was tangled and a mess, dark shadows were present under her eyes.

An idea then struck and she smiled.

"I think I know a way we can get food." She stated, "If I can disguise myself, people are more likely to overlook me; then I can get what we need."

Sandor grunted. "If you do, you're going alone; there's no way to disguise this." He gestured to his burned face, "I won't be able to protect you."

Sansa nodded, ignoring the nervous fluttering in the pit of her stomach, and forced herself to be brave. "I'll be fine."

Sandor finally relented and they worked quickly, using river mud to cover her hands and some of her face. They also ran mud through her hair, dulling its colour; making her blue eyes her only defining Tully trait visible. She checked her reflection again, she barely recognized herself.

'_I just hope nobody else will.'_ She thought as she took the money needed and headed into the holdfast; Sandor remained in the forest; staying out of sight. Sansa entered the holdfast, she saw the market square up ahead and headed that way, hoping that her plan worked. She would have to be careful and come up with some excuse for the money. Her appearance was that of a low born girl, therefore, carrying around this much money might make people suspicious. However she still had to try; she could only pray that she was successful.

As she walked she almost bumped into someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She said; the person smiled, it was a young man, a year or two older than her.

"It's fine." He replied. "Not the first time a beautiful young maid has nearly ran into me."

Sansa blushed but didn't reply, she couldn't think of one. Instead she gestured to the market. "I'm sorry I must go, I need to get food for my journey north."

The young man looked at her surprised.

"Are you travelling alone?" He asked, Sansa quickly thought up a reasonable lie.

"No, I'm with my uncle; he's just outside the town." Nobody would believe the Hound was her father, but he probably could pass off as her uncle. "He has a bad leg so he decided to wait for me outside."

The man gave a good natured laugh. "My, you are very dutiful, aren't you?"

Sansa smiled and then the man smiled wider.

"I could help you with your purchases, if you wish."

Sansa couldn't think of a polite way to turn him down, so she accepted, although she was nervous, something could go horribly wrong here if she wasn't careful. She followed the young man, who introduced himself as the son of a minor lordling, into the market, keeping a wary eye on him.

Sandor drained the last of the wine from his wineskin and heaved a heavy sigh. He glanced up; the sun was now high in the sky. He was starting to think maybe he shouldn't have let Sansa go alone. Just then he heard her voice.

"Look, thank you, you've helped me greatly." She was saying to someone. "But really, I will be fine on my own now."

"Come now, you said your uncle has a bad leg. It would be impolite of me to make you carry all this back to him alone." A male voice replied.

Sandor narrowed his eyes; it was clear to him that the 'uncle' they were referring to was him. He silently congratulated her on coming up with a good lie for once before moving quietly to see what was happening. He saw her, she was holding two packs, both containing their supplies. The young man had the look of a lord about him, he was carrying two more packs but refused to let go. Sansa tried to take them but suddenly all four packs tumbled to the ground as he grabbed her arms.

"Let me go." She said, desperation creeping into her voice.

The man simply smiled and replied. "You're rather beautiful for a common girl. Come now, I helped you; no reward for me?"

Sansa struggled in his grip as he suddenly became more forceful. She managed to get a hand free and slapped the man across the face; he let go of her and he was sent reeling. He recovered and turned to her glaring.

Just before he could advance on her Sandor stepped out.

"That's enough of that." He rasped, glaring at the young man.

The colour drained from the young man's face as he saw Sandor and he backed off.

"You...You're..." He stammered. Sandor finished the sentence for him.

"This girl's uncle and the one who is only going to spare your life, _if_ you start running now."

Without even a moment's hesitation the young man turned and fled.

"Thank you." Sansa said, "But you let him go, if he tells someone, the Queen..."

"I know, we have to get moving, let's go." He replied as he picked up the packs.

Sansa nodded and together they continued onwards; hoping that they would stay ahead of anybody who would be after them in order to earn the Queen's favour.

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End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	4. Bran I

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy :)

**Reviews**

**Emeloo2: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, here you go :)  
Patrick: Thanks, glad you are enjoying it, this story will have four POV characters; not counting the prologue character, this is the third one :)  
Gemzy; Yeah, I often wondered how things could've been different. Glad you enjoyed it :)**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

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**Bran**

They had already been this way, Bran was sure of it. However a moment later he wasn't so sure. Had they? All the trees looked the same! There was no way to tell if this was the clearing they had left some time ago, or a new one. He sighed and shook his head.

"Are we still heading the right way?" He asked.

Jojen Reed nodded in confirmation. "I have faith we are."

Bran wasn't convinced however, at that moment Jojen's older sister, Meera, looked up and smiled at him.

"Do you doubt my tracking skills, Bran?" She asked playfully and Bran felt his mouth suddenly go dry.

"N-n-no, of course not, I..." He stammered before clearing his throat. "It's just, it all looks the same, how can you tell...if we've been here before or not?"

Meera smiled at him and Bran felt heat rising in his cheeks. "It's all about subtle differences. You have to look carefully, if you know what you're looking for, you can find them."

He nodded and Meera continued to lead them forwards. Bran shifted his weight slightly, getting himself more comfortable. The basket in which he rode sometimes hurt if he didn't sit right. Hodor never seemed to notice however. Bran looked around carefully, making sure they were still together. Jojen was walking next to Hodor on the left hand side; Meera led the group, with both Direwolves keeping pace with her. Rickon was on his right while Osha brought up the rear, constantly checking over her shoulder.

Bran turned his attention back to the front of the group. He soon found himself gazing at Meera. He smiled as he watched her; as was typical of crannogmen, male or female, she was short and slim. Her slight appearance however belied her strength as Bran had seen her fight; she was an expert hunter and tracker and could take down prey larger than herself. He had also seen her mock fight with Summer and win, he admired that strength. He also admired the way her hair, slightly messy from travel, fell down her back; whenever she turned her head and he caught the profile of her face he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

'_She's beautiful.' _He thought to himself, _'Those eyes...'_

Meera's green eyes were similar to her brother's, but while Jojen's were solemn, Meera's were bright and seemed to shine most of the time. Bran knew that most men would probably not find her that attractive, particularly since she was flat chested, but his opinion was different. Bran felt strange; he had felt something for Meera Reed the moment he first saw her; the way he had blushed when she smiled at him when she first arrived in Winterfell. That felt so long ago, and as time went on, that feeling had grown stronger.

'_Do I...love her?'_ He wondered to himself. But the elated feeling was soon gone. _'Not that it matters if I do...She couldn't love me, who could love a cripple.'_

He was letting his bitterness fester again he realized, and quickly pushed the thoughts away.

He was still fixated on Meera when his younger brother's voice caught his attention.

"What are you staring at, Bran?" He asked innocently. Bran felt himself flush however and immediately stammered.

"I...Nothing, I wasn't...I wasn't looking at anything."

Rickon frowned. "Yes you were, you were looking at something up ahead."

Bran shook his head. "It's nothing, Rickon, don't worry about it."

Rickon huffed and looked ahead, trying to see what Bran had been staring at.

Bran fought back a laugh when he saw Rickon craning his neck trying to see. _'He's too young to realize it was Meera I was staring at.'_

Just then Osha quickened her pace and caught up to them.

"We've been travelling for a long time; we should probably stop and rest." She said; "The little one has to be getting tired."

Rickon turned and glared at her, defiant. "I'm fine." He insisted.

Osha sighed and shook her head. "Well, you're not the only one, Hodor is getting tired."

"Hodor." Hodor replied, somewhat indignantly.

Bran looked down, Hodor was breathing heavily and seemed to be perspiring; he felt a surge of guilt; knowing it was the added weight of carrying him on his back that was tiring Hodor out.

Jojen however spoke up. "We can't stop, not here, we're not safe here."

Meera turned around to face her brother. "Another Greendream?" She asked and Jojen nodded.

"We are surrounded by flayed men, they approach us with weapons and strike, after that, it's just black - and a woman wailing in pain."

They were all silent, considering Jojen's words; having seen his dreams come true too many times to doubt his words.

After a while Rickon broke the silence.

"Isn't the flayed man the sigil of the Boltons?" He asked. Bran nodded.

"That's right." He replied. "But why would they attack us, aren't they Robb's bannermen?"

Jojen shrugged. "If we want to get to your brother and his camp; we're better off not getting caught by them."

"But if Hodor's tired, we're not going to make progress." Osha pointed out. Finally Meera smiled.

"I'll carry Bran." She offered.

Bran gaped at her, once again feeling the heat rising to his face; he prayed his face wasn't actually red when he replied. "Meera I..."

She shook her head, still smiling. "It's fine, I can manage, plus it gives Hodor a chance to catch his breath while we can keep moving."

Despite how flustered he felt Bran knew there was logic in what she said so he agreed. They had just reached another clearing; this one had a small rock formation in the middle of it.

"Hodor stop." Bran told the gentle giant, he did so and on Bran's instruction knelt down.

Osha lifted Bran out of the basket and sat him down on the rock as Hodor stood up.

Osha then turned to Meera. "Are you sure about this, I can carry him too."

Meera nodded. "It's fine, I'll carry him, if I get tired..."

"That's when I carry him, alright."

Meera then turned around and knelt down next to the rock, her back to Bran.

"Put your arms around my shoulders and hold on." She told him.

He did so and she straightened up, moving her arms under his legs; now she had a proper grip and he was secure on her back. She nodded and they kept moving.

Bran could feel his heart hammering in his chest and prayed that Meera couldn't feel it. He was certain that his face was completely red by now; this was the closest he had ever been to Meera. This close he could smell the sharp yet sweet forest like smell she had; could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. Yet he could not feel her hands. Positioned as they were, holding his useless legs up. The thought made him feel sad but he didn't let it show and instead secretly revelled in the new sensation he felt at being so close to her. He just hoped none of the others could see, as they walked on, Meera seemed to have no trouble carrying him; confirming his thoughts that she was stronger than she looked. He turned his head; trying hard to calm his rapidly beating heart and saw Osha looked around, a worried expression on her face.

"Osha?" He asked; concerned.

She inhaled sharply and then replied. "I feel we're being watched; something approaches - closer than we thought."

As if to confirm her words Summer and Shaggydog both pricked up their ears, sniffed the air and started to growl.

Rickon immediately began to panic; "What's going on?"

Jojen looked around too. "The flayed men, it must be!"

Meera also looked around. "We have to keep moving, hurry!"

At that moment a whistling sound caught his attention, then something flew past Meera in a blur and hit a nearby tree with a thud. It just nicked her right ear, dark red blood started to well to the cut. It slowly dawned on Bran: it was an arrow. Before he could react, the woods erupted into action. Strange men bearing the sigil of the Boltons, a flayed man, poured into the clearing. They were all armed and ready for a fight!

One of their voices was louder than the rest. "That's them, the Princes of Winterfell; grab them!"

Bran, unable to fight, could only observe the fray from Meera's back. Osha sprang into action, fighting back fiercely, her wildling heritage evident from her throaty growls. Summer and Shaggydog leapt from man to man in a frenzy, biting off a hand, or tearing at a throat. Meera was cut off from her weapons, having put them down to carry Bran. Over the din, Bran could see Jojen yelling something, but he couldn't make out the words. However Meera did, and instantly sprang into action. Meera's swift movements were too much for Bran's equilibrium, and the rest was a blur.

Eventually the men's shouts and screams, and the Direwolves' growls, died away. The only sounds remaining was Bran's own heart beat, thumping loudly in his ears, and Meera's heavy breathing. She slumped into a dense copse of shrubs, mindful of the boy on her back, and groaned into her hands.

"I think we're safe now," she looked around, "but we've lost the others."

Bran looked around too, taking in the new surroundings properly for the first time; Rickon, Osha, both Direwolves, Hodor and Jojen were absent. His stomach began to knot in worry.

"You don't think...?"

Meera shook her head. "I saw them all get away; they're alive at least. We just have to try and find them again."

Bran nodded and Meera helped him get into a more comfortable position before beginning their search.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	5. Arya I

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, finally we come to Arya's POV, enjoy :)

**Reviews**

**Emeloo2: You're welcome.**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin

* * *

**Arya**

Green flames, she was surrounded by green flames. She turned desperately, trying to run, but green flames blocked her path; the heat from them was intense. She could hear a voice calling her name, it sounded vaguely familiar but her mind felt clouded. The heat grew more intense and suddenly a hand of green fire lashed out at her before darkness took over her senses.

Arya gasped as she was jerked awake from the nightmare. Or was she awake? She had definitely felt herself wake up; the pain she could feel made her certain she was awake. Yet all she could see was darkness, as if her eyes weren't open. Her left arm didn't feel as stiff as the right, so she lifted it to her eyes and felt bandages wrapped around them. Almost at once fear took hold of her but she pushed it back, what had happened, why were her eyes bandaged? Suddenly she felt a hand grasp hers and pull it down.

"Please, child, leave the bandages." A wheezy voice stated; it sounded like it belonged to an old man. "You'll recover quickly if you leave them."

Arya was still wary; judging from the sounds she could hear, she was still in Harrenhal. She couldn't trust this man, even though his speech marked him as a Maester. The man made some more comments about her condition before finally leaving the room, granting Arya peace to think.

From what she had overheard, the explosion had been caused by a substance known as Wildfire; she had heard stories about it, but never thought it actually existed. Her injuries had been caused by the fire's heat. Due to the heat the skin of her right arm, right cheek and the right hand side of her neck had blistered badly; also the bright blast of the explosion had seared her eyes which explained the bandages. According to the Maester while there would be permanent damage, she wouldn't completely lose her sight. It was a matter of patience, waiting for her sight to return to her. Patience however was not something she was known for. The Maester said that the bandages would need to be changed daily, and during every change she should try and see if her sight had returned. If her sight was blurred or she couldn't see then she would still need the bandages. Once she could see clearly she would be able to stop using them. She had listened to the gossip as people walked past, establishing what had occurred since she had passed out. There was still a gaping hole in the wall; however, due to the shortage of manpower, Amory Lorch had been left to guard it alone. To Arya, this sounded to like a good point of escape. But being blind was going to cause some serious problems… She will need help.

Just then the door opened again and she tensed, waiting. Then relaxed as she heard the familiar voice.

"Arya?" He whispered; she smiled.

"Gendry, I'm glad it's you."

She heard him move and then sit down next to the bed she was in. When he sat down she spoke, quietly so no listener could hear.

"Did you hear about the hole in the wall?" She asked, "The explosion, there's...a way out."

He was quiet for a moment before finally replying. "Yeah, but, you're in no fit state to go anywhere."  
"We have to go, Gendry. This is our best chance." She whispered quickly. "So let's get out of here. We can grab everything we need and then get out."

Gendry sighed. "You're forgetting one thing. There's a guard at that wall."

Arya smirked. "I can handle him, don't worry. I know how to get rid of him."

"As you say then, I just hope this works."

She nodded and heard him leave, as he did so he muttered something about bandages and food. She knew then he was going to get everything ready.

There was silence again when suddenly a soft voice broke the quiet.

"A girl awakens." Arya sat up sharply.

"Jaqen?"

She couldn't even hear his footsteps but she felt him sit down on the bed. "A man hears of plans being made, plans to escape...A man would help; if a girl would give him a name."

She smiled and nodded before whispering to him. "Amory Lorch."

The only thing that answered her was the sound of the wind against the shutters; but she knew Jaqen had heard and left the room. Sometime later she heard Gendry's familiar tread as he entered the room.

"You ready?" He asked; Arya shrugged.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

There was a moment of silence before Gendry spoke again. "It's night out and everyone should be asleep; I'm going have to carry you. Can't have you walking into things, making noise and waking them all up!"

"Fine, just do it, c'mon, or we'll miss our chance."

She felt Gendry's arms underneath her before he lifted her up and, after confirming he had everything, they left swiftly and silently. Just as Gendry had said, almost all of Harrenhal's occupants were tucked away out of sight: leaving the pair to sneak past uninterrupted. Finally they made it outside.

"We're just about at the breech." Gendry nudged Arya slightly before suddenly stopping. "What the...?"

"What's wrong?" Arya asked, panic rising.

He gulped audibly before answering. "That guard...he's… he's dead."

Arya let out a sigh of relief; Jaqen had done his work. "Well, better for us, I guess. Let's go before anyone sees us!"

Gendry seemed to recover from his shock when she said that and hurried forwards then broke into a run, being careful not to jostle the girl in his arms too much. It seemed a long time before he finally stopped running and put her down. She could hear his heavy breathing and knew that they must've travelled a fair distance. She let him get his breath back and then asked.

"Where are we?"

There was a pause and then he replied. "I...I don't know, we've just lost sight of Harrenhal. The path I took twisted every direction...The sun's just starting to come up now."

Arya thought about a book she had read back home in Winterfell, about the sun rising and setting in different directions, and realized its use.

"Gendry, stand so the sun is on your right. You should be facing north, or as close to north as possible." She said. "If we go that way...we'll find my brother sooner or later."

Gendry sighed. "Should I carry you again or...?"

"Just help me up and hold onto my arm, I can walk, just make sure I don't trip on anything."

She felt him take her arm and help her to her feet; he continued to hold her arm as they began walking, hopefully heading north.

As they continued to walk Arya wondered about the rest of her family; would they all be alive?

'_Last I heard Sansa was still at King's Landing...But I didn't hear anything about Robb, or mother.'_ She pondered before continuing along her current train of thought. _'Bran and Rickon too, they should still be in Winterfell, safe and away from all this...I wish I knew, it wouldn't be so frustrating then.'_

Just then Gendry stopped; taking her by surprise.

"Huh, what's wrong?" She asked; Gendry's reply was barely above a whisper.

"Him."

Before she could ask for further clarification she got her answer.

"A man has a name; that name is Jaqen H'ghar." The soft voice said.

Arya was surprised all over again. "Jaqen, what are you...?"

Jaqen replied; calm and relaxed as ever. "A man comes to say goodbye. He also comes to warn a girl, she faces dangers on the road; to match the number of lives owed."

With that silence followed until Gendry exhaled and Arya guessed Jaqen had left. Finally Gendry broke the silence.

"What was that all about? He said warning but it didn't make any sense."

Arya thought over the warning and sighed. "Actually it does; we're going to run into three dangers on the road if we're not careful."

If Gendry was surprised he gave no audible sign; finally he took her arm again. "Let's get a hurry on; if we're quick, maybe we can avoid them."

She agreed and they continued walking, Arya praying to the Old Gods they were going north, hoping against hope she would soon be reunited with Robb and her mother.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	6. Sansa II

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story.

**Reviews**

**magnus374: Thanks, glad you liked it :)  
HarryPotterLover1996: Thanks, glad you enjoyed them, there will be more Arya chapters don't worry :)**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Sansa**

Sansa kept looking back over her shoulder; she could feel it, someone was following them. She glanced at Sandor, he didn't look behind him, but the grim set of his face convinced her that he had the same feeling.

"Do you think it's the man I ran into at that village?" She asked.

Sandor shrugged. "Either him, or someone who's been following us for a long time. Whoever it is isn't alone, listen."

She did so and heard it clearly, the heavy footsteps, the voices, there was a mob after them. Sandor didn't even need to warn her about the dangers they faced, she sped up to match his quickened pace. After finally glancing over his shoulder he also drew his sword. She heard him curse softly before explaining.

"Your typical village mob, armed with things like pitchforks and whatever they lay their hands on. Torches too, to find their way about." He shook his head, "Bugger them and their damn torches."

Sansa knew his reservations about the torches was simple, it always came back to fire, his apparently fatal and apparently only weakness. She glanced back again, a nervous flutter building up inside her as the tension grew.

"How..." She cleared her throat and started again. "How long until they catch up?"

Just then a dull thud caught her attention. An arrow, crudely made, was buried in a tree two feet to Sandor's right. He grunted.

"Now, by the look of it." He remarked and they took off running.

They could hear the mob closing in, their voices getting louder. Poorly aimed arrows flew and missed them several times. They did not keep to a straight path. Sandor ensured they changed direction constantly. Sometimes even taking a wide loop out of the way and doubling back, getting behind the mob. But before long they were found again and the chase continued.

"They won't give up until they catch us." She stated; Sandor merely growled.

"Till they catch me." He replied. "They don't yet know who you are...You're little disguise fooled them. Some have probably guessed but they don't know for certain."

As Sansa listened to the yelling of the mob behind them; she realized he was right. They only ever mentioned Sandor; a few mentioned a girl travelling with him but stated that she looked nothing like Sansa Stark.

'_Do I really look that different?' _She wondered to herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted Sandor roared in pain. She managed a quick glance back and immediately saw the arrow shaft protruding from his leg. She staggered under his weight as she caught him.

"We...We have to keep going." She gasped; her lungs trying recover from the exertion.

She did her best to support him as she forced herself to walk on; the mob was still closing in. Eventually they had to stop, and took cover amongst some thick scrubs and bushes.

They froze as the mob entered the clearing, looking around.

"They're here somewhere," one of them growled in annoyance."They have to be."

Sansa whispered quietly. "We could try and sneak away, we're still undercover."

"Bit late for that, they know we're here," Sandor replied quietly. "Besides, I doubt I could go very far with this leg."

Sansa pondered for a moment, she inhaled shakily and made up her mind.

"Try and find a way to sneak behind them." She whispered to him before calling out loudly. "Very well, you got me, I'm coming out!"

With that she stepped out from the bushes and stopped. She could feel the mob's eyes on her but she did not turn away.

"That's the girl that was with him," one of them muttered."Where's the Hound?"

Sansa swallowed nervously before replying. "You...You already killed him, I got him this far but, he didn't survive."

"Told you I hit something!" A voice called out, almost excited.

There were some murmurs throughout the group; they were disappointed in missing their catch. Finally they stalked off, leaving, except for three. Sansa recognized one, it was the young lordling she had met back in the village; he was behind this.

The man smirked as he approached her. "I thought there was something suspicious about you. I see it now, too bad those that left won't get to share in the reward."

Sansa stared and tried to reply. "I...I don't know what you..."

"Enough." He cut across to her; his smirk wider. "Search her for any valuables and tie her hands, boys. She'll get us rich."

The two remaining men stared at him without comprehension; the lordling groaned and suddenly upended the contents of his water skin onto her.

"Now do you understand?" He asked angrily as the water washed some of the mud and dirt off her hair and face.

The sight of her auburn hair, along with her Tully blue eyes was enough for the men to realize the truth.

"Sansa Stark?" They gasped in surprise, the lordling nodded.

"Like I said, she's going to make us rich, once we take her to the Queen."

Nodding to that the men advanced to carry out their orders.

Sansa tried to back away but the men grabbed her, one pulled her arms behind her back while the lordling and the other man began to search her for valuables. She fought to keep her face impassive, desperate to not give anything away as Sandor emerged from behind a tree, his sword drawn.

As he approached she felt the rough bite of rope around her wrists before the man binding them froze in fear. Before he could warn the others Sandor struck; killing the second young man who had been searching her. The one trying to bind her let go as Sandor seized him. Sansa tried to escape, but the lordling grabbed her and held her like a shield, holding one of his daggers to her throat. Sandor turned to face them, a fountain of red erupting down the other man's neck as the Hound's sword cut across his throat. He glared at the lordling, his face contorting into a scowl, as the lordling tried desperately to bargain with him.

"Put the sword down," the lordling pleaded, his voice trembling.

Sandor took a step forward. "You should let her go."

"Put the sword down and I will."

The lordling was so focused on Sandor he didn't realize what Sansa is doing. She had worked her hands free and, in the midst of her struggles, managed to grab the young man's second dagger. Fear and desperation overtook her and she plunged the dagger into his stomach. He let out a strangled cry, dropping his dagger, and loosening his grip. She spun around, yanking the dagger free before thrusting it back in. She saw his eyes dim and it slowly dawned on her what she had done. She stood back, letting him fall to the ground, before looking down at her hands, they were covered in blood. She sunk to the ground next to his lifeless body and began to sob uncontrollably.

She was so far gone she was surprised when she realized Sandor had cleaned the blood from her hands and led her away from the dead. She glanced down and noticed the arrow still in his leg.

"I...We've..." She stammered pointing to the wound; he nodded and they stopped.

Despite still being in a shock induced dazed, she got to work treating his wound as best she could.

He grimaced as he put weight on his leg after she was done, but with a strained exhalation his face was impassive again.

"Better," he remarked before turning to her. His eyes softened slightly before he spoke. "It's always hardest the first time."

She nodded, realizing what he was referring to. She didn't want to talk about it and he didn't press the issue, instead they both pressed onwards; seeking to continue their hunt for Robb's camp.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	7. Bran II

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**Noek: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, ha, it's not completely me; I have a beta reader to help me out :)  
Emeloo2: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, yeah well, I'd rather know about reader's opinions of the whole story, rather than just specific chapters.**

Now onto the story.  
**  
**Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Bran**

Their progress was slow but steady. Bran looked around warily, keeping a close eye out for any signs of movement. Every now and then his gaze would stray down towards Meera. Carrying him would surely make her tire quicker; at the moment however she seemed to be managing without difficulty. Like him, she was wary, but she was also checking the ground searching for recent tracks. Bran wasn't sure how long they had been walking, but suddenly Meera gasped and knelt down, making sure to hold him steady.

"What is it?" He asked, surprised and concerned at the same time.

His concern disappeared however when he saw she was smiling.

"I've found the tracks left by the others," she explained. "Look!"

He looked down to where she pointed; his eyes narrowed, he could only just make the tracks out. "Are you absolutely certain?" He asked cautiously.

She nodded and then indicated to what looked like long gouges in the dirt.

"That's what made me certain," she stated. "Jojen did that. When we were younger, out exploring the lands of our home, we would arrange a place to meet should we become separated. To make sure the other knew they were going the right way, we would drag our heels and make tracks like this one."

She stood up and smiled. "Jojen wants us to know they went this way."

Bran smiled when he heard this, the conviction in her voice was convincing enough for him. He shifted his weight slightly and held on as Meera continued onwards.

However their journey was longer than expected, even as the tracks became clearer. Even Bran could now pick out the gouges Jojen's heels had left in the dirt; also there was no mistaking the large footprints that belongs to Hodor. He couldn't see the other prints but Meera could, she had informed him that at a certain point Rickon's prints disappeared. The fact that the other prints kept the same steady pace meant likely that one of the others was carrying him. However by now the sun had set and night was falling.

The pair decided to stop for the night; Meera carefully put Bran down, helping him settle comfortably against a tree. After a light meal Bran noted that the exhaustion was finally starting to show on Meera's face. That wasn't all that he noted off course; he smiled lightly as he looked at her, taking in her appearance once again. He was jolted back into reality by her voice.

"Bran, Is something wrong?"

He gulped and quickly recovered. "I-I'm fine, yes. I think... I think we should get some rest, it's been a long day."

Meera nodded slowly. Bran shivered as the cold bite of the night air struck, taking him by surprise. Meera noticed his discomfort.

"Bran, you're shivering," she stated. "I would make a fire, but we can't risk it being seen."

Bran nodded slowly. "I know. But we can cover ourselves though, right?" He asked, gesturing to the thick blankets they had brought with them.

Meera sighed. "That won't do it, but there is a way we can stay warm. We use both blankets and lie together, share body heat."

Bran froze at that; stunned.

He couldn't believe what he had just heard. Meera was suggesting that they lie next to each other to keep each other warm, this would involve holding each other. The thought alone made his heart hammer and his mouth go dry. He prayed his face wasn't red.

"I... I don't know, I mean... It's..." He stammered; Meera however raised an eyebrow.

"It's the best way, Bran; if we're not careful with it being so cold, we'll end up being taken by some sickness," she reasoned. "If we keep each other warm we can avoid that."

Bran knew she was right so he offered no further argument and instead focused on trying to slow his rapidly beating heart. If Meera noticed it he didn't know how he could explain. She grabbed their blankets and got to work, Bran did what he could to help and soon he found himself in a rather awkward position. He was lying wrapped up under the blankets, Meera lay next to him, her arms around him. After an awkward pause he did the same. He could feel her warmth and the shivering stopped. However the awkwardness and the dryness in his throat remained. It took a long time for him to try and sleep that night, Meera was asleep long before him. Her face was a balance of peace and contentment; and it was completely distracting for him –he couldn't take his eyes off her, and only made him feel even more acutely his feelings for her.

When he did finally sleep he dreamed. Not his usual wolf dreams either, it was different. In the dream he was whole, walking on his own two feet, back in Winterfell. He was older too, all his family were there, talking and laughing. Even his father was there, just as Bran remembered him. He had dreamed like this before, but this time something was different. For at his side, her arm linked with his, was Meera. The complete ease they had around each other made it clear to him that they were married. Such happiness radiated from them; the dream ended however just as he turned to kiss Meera. His eyes snapped open and he was aware of how his breathing had sped up. He was certain he was blushing and he swallowed and tried to calm himself. It wasn't easy however as he lay facing her. Just seeing her brought the dream back in vivid detail and he found her closeness uncomfortable and yet almost intoxicating at the same time.

'_What am I thinking?'_He thought to himself, _'I've got to face reality, it was just a dream. It's not going to happen; especially since I'm broken.'_

It was then he realized that it was nearly dawn. He gently shook Meera's shoulder.

"The sun is nearly up, we need to move now if we want to catch the others." He said, looking up at the forest in the pre dawn gloom.

Meera was awake instantly, and immediately got to work gathering everything together. After Bran agreed with her about her suggested sleeping arrangement, she hoisted him onto her back. Ensuring sure he was hanging on, she continued onwards and they resumed their tracking.

Bran was concerned the trail would've gone cold, but Meera reassured him. She followed the trail easily enough and occasionally Bran noted that even he could see and follow the tracks. Rickon was walking again too and they were still heading south. However Bran had the strangest feeling of unease which had nothing to do with his dream. True his dream made it even more awkward for him to be close to Meera, especially with her carrying him on her back. However the feeling he had right now was one of dread, a creeping sensation up his spine which made him look around warily.

"Meera I feel like someone's..." He began but she nodded.

"Watching us, I know, I feel it too." She replied. "We just need to be careful."

They proceeded onwards, wary. Suddenly, as they reached another clearing, Meera yelped and fell forwards, landing face down. Bran was thrown forwards and hit the ground with a thump which knocked the air out of him. He turned his head and saw Meera; she was sprawled on the ground, reaching back towards her right leg. Around her ankle was a thin rope, from what Bran could see, it was a larger version of the snares Meera used when hunting. They heard rustling and then found themselves surrounded. The Bolton men had caught up at last.

The men closed in, one of them picked Bran up, another released Meera's leg from the snare and yanked her to her feet. Bran watched helplessly as two of the men held Meera while a third searched her and her clothing thoroughly for weapons. Once she was disarmed he signalled to the men and stepped back. Soon Meera's hands were tied in front of her, and as the man turned to Bran, Meera screamed out.

"Leave him, he isn't armed," she cried, "I'm the one with the weapons, you have them all..."

She was cut off by one of those retraining her; he struck her across the face with the back of his hand. He glared down at her as he spoke to man who appeared to be in charge.

"Luton, this Frogeater bitch is being too loud." He snarled.

Luton rolled his eyes. "So make her quiet, search the cripple; at most he'll have a dagger on him. He doesn't have the strength for anything else."

Meera tried to beg them again but one of her guards forced a rag between her teeth and tied it behind her head, silencing her. The men briefly searched Bran; he did his best not to give any indication of discomfort from the search. They found nothing of course as he was indeed unarmed. Luton nodded.

"Good, right, we'll take them to Dreadfort. Lord Ramsay wishes to see them." He stated.

He began to walk back to his horse.

However before he could mount the man holding Bran suddenly complained.

"I'm not carrying this cripple all the way to Dreadfort."

Luton sighed and turned around, he looked at the two captives and an idea seemed to come to him. He gave some instructions and the men acted upon them. Bran found himself on Meera's back again; his arms were pulled over her shoulders, and his hands were tied together. More ropes were passed around his torso and hers; pinning her arms to her sides and his hands to her chest. Finally they tied his legs together and stepped back. They were helpless now and soon the journey to Dreadfort began. As they forced Meera to walk, Bran heard some of the men laughing and then one of them turned to him.

"Hey, cripple, I get why you and the young lady ran off now. But what happened?" He asked.

Bran looked at him, confusion and terror clouding his mind. "I...What...?"  
The man laughed. "I guess you just weren't good enough, not hard to believe, crippled as you are I doubt you could please any woman, let alone this Frogeater. Seven Hells, the only way to know she's a woman for sure is to check she hasn't got a cock."

Bran didn't know exactly what the man was saying but he could guess mostly and his face burned in shame. Meera blushed too, likely at the insult to her lack of a womanly figure, her almost completely flat breasts, where Bran's hands were now secured. Still laughing at their pointed insults towards both of them the men continued to force them onwards. Their fates uncertain.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	8. Arya II

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story.

**Reviews**

**magnus374: Answer to all your reviews; yeah, you bet she does. Yup, but as Sandor said, the first kill is the hardest; and yeah hard luck on Bran and Meera.  
Emeloo2: No probs, glad you enjoyed them.  
HarryPotterLover1996: Cliffhanger indeed, you'll find out what happens to them in the next chapter :) Well, here it is enjoy :)**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Arya**

As they walked Arya pondered Jaqen's warning. Annoyed as she was at being practically helpless, she allowed Gendry to guide her. It was that or stumble over every tree root and rock she came across. She trusted Gendry to keep her out of the way of them. Her helplessness didn't just annoy her, it worried her too. After Jaqen's warning she thought continuously on everything that could potentially pose a danger to them.

'_There's so many things that could be a threat,' _She thought. _'Lannister soldiers, bandits, dangerous creatures. So many things!'_

As if reading her mind Gendry slowed their pace until they stopped and then spoke. His voice was hushed and urgent.

"Arya, what he told us, about danger." He hesitated and then continued. "I know it goes without saying that we be careful but, with you in this condition..."

"I know; I can't exactly fight."

She heard him sigh before speaking again. "Yeah, but, that doesn't mean you shouldn't try. I've got a sword from the forge here and I grabbed this from that guard's body."

Arya felt him place something in her hands; she felt it, the hilt, the delicately wrought hilt and the familiar slender blade ending in a sharp point.

"Needle?" She breathed, hardly daring to believe it.

She knew Gendry was smirking. "Thought you'd recognize it. If we are going to face danger, we might as well be armed and ready for it."

Arya agreed and, after a few clumsy failed attempts, slid Needle into her belt and they continued on.

As they walked Arya was silent, thinking about her family; wondering how they were all doing. She had been cut off in Harrenhal for a long time, and only knew what was going on outside by overhearing the guard's talk and by eavesdropping on meetings. Yet even that did not glean any new information. Now that she was back in the outside world, she wished she could think of a way to figure out what happened, without arousing suspicion. Finally however, unable to bear the constricting feeling in her chest as she thought about them, she spoke.

"Gendry, I was wondering..." She paused thinking how best to describe what she wanted to tell him. "Do you... think my family's really all right?"

There was a pause and then he replied.

"I...I don't know, I mean; why are you...?" He hesitated, clearly unsure.

Finally she explained about her fears and concerns.

"The last time I heard anything about my family, Robb and my mother were still out fighting, Sansa was in King's Landing, Bran and Rickon were home in Winterfell. But what if that's not true anymore?"

Gendry sighed. "I see what you mean; there's nothing we can do yet...We'll just have to try and find your brother's camp and then...see what we can find out."

Arya sighed. "I guess; well, let's get going. If we don't hurry, we can be sure that danger will find us."

Gendry agreed and they quickened their pace.

However they could only cover so much distance before tiring, they eventually had to slow down and then stop.

"Gendry?" Arya asked; concerned.

"It's late, sun's gone down. We'll just get lost if we try to travel through the dark. We'll have to stop for the night." He replied flatly.

Arya groaned, as much as she wanted to keep going she knew he was right.

"Right, we'll stop here then."

Gendry agreed and helped her to a flat, rock free patch to rest and soon they were both asleep. They were far from comfortable, out in the open and without a fire, but they were able to make do.

Arya didn't know how many hours had passed when she was awoken by a pair of rough hands, definitely not Gendry's, grabbing her.

"What the...?" She was cut off by the harsh voice of the man who had grabbed her.

"Shut up, not a sound!" He growled.

She could hear other voices and realized Gendry had been grabbed too. Who were these people? Her mind raced.

"Well, what do we have here, couple o' travellers," one of the men stated. "Let's see what you two got?"

It then became clear to Arya that these men were bandits. She fought to keep the panic out of her voice as she spoke.

"We don't have anything," she stated. "You're wasting your time."

"We'll decide that, girl." The one holding her declared.

Arya sighed, Gendry had clearly been disarmed, but it wasn't hopeless yet.

Due to the way she had been grabbed Arya's coat was still wrapped around her, Needle was still in her hands. If she could just move enough to use it, it might provide enough of a distraction for Gendry to grab his sword again. She twisted in her captor's grasp, ignoring his growls for her to stay still.

Finally however another bandit spoke. "Ugh, they got nothin'."

The others growled and then another spoke. "Well, let's kill them and get outta here."

Panicked, Arya acted on impulse. By luck she had managed to twist her body around just enough to be out of harm's way. Needle tore through the fabric of the coat and pierced the bandit holding her. He screamed and dropped her. However this caused the blanket to unravel and her to lose her grip on Needle. There was shouting and the sound of screams and steel on steel as she frantically tried to find Needle again. Suddenly she froze, everything had gone quiet. She waited tensely and then suddenly a voice spoke.

"Arya?"

She breathed a sigh of relief, it was Gendry. He put Needle in her hands again and helped her stand up. She was able to slide it into her belt and then spoke.

"What happened?" She asked.

Gendry then explains about how her distraction had allowed him to grab his sword. He then fought off the surprised bandits and forced them to run away.

Arya inhaled sharply. "Were you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." He paused and then sighed. "Well, it's morning, we better hurry."

Arya gave a short laugh. "You're right, but before we go...?"

"Oh yeah, let's take those old bandages off."

Arya nodded and waited for him to begin.

She closed her eyes and soon felt Gendry's hands working at the bandages. Soon the pressure caused by them disappeared and Gendry spoke.

"Right, they're off...so?"

Arya slowly opened her eyes and sighed. Her vision was only marginally better. Most of her sight was still engulfed in darkness, what little she could see was blurred. She told Gendry as such and he nodded before tying the fresh bandages into place. Once they were secured he took her arm again and they walked on.

"Well, I'm guessing that was one of the dangers your friend warned us about." Gendry stated.

Arya nodded. "Hopefully we'll be better prepared for the next two."

So, listening carefully in case the bandits came back and pursued them, they continued onwards, continuing north.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	9. Bran III

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**Emeloo2: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, here's the next chapter, enjoy :)  
HarryPotterLover1996: Thanks glad you enjoyed it, me too; if you are interested PM me and I'll tell you all my GoT ships. Yeah well, wait and see :)  
magnus374: Yeah me too, glad you enjoyed it :)**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Bran**

They had traveled for a long time and throughout the journey some of the men forcing them onwards continued to make suggestive comments towards Meera. Bran had to bite his lip and try to hide his red cheeks; he was uncomfortable enough as it was and he was certain they had bound his hands to Meera in that way on purpose.

Meera had also kept mostly quiet; although not through choice; she blushed as much as Bran and occasionally growled through her gag, but otherwise there was nothing else she could do. By now they had arrived at Dreadfort and were through the gates. Standing waiting for them, smirking, was the Bastard of Dreadfort: Ramsay Snow. If what Bran had heard the soldiers talking about was true, he was Ramsay Bolton now.

The group stopped and Bran watched as most of the ropes were removed. He was lifted down from Meera and held up by two soldiers next to her. Another two soldiers held her. They both stood, their hands still bound and Meera still gagged. Ramsay approached them, his smirk turning into a mad grin.

"So," he said softly as he stopped in front of Bran. "The Prince of Winterfell, the broken one."

Bran glared, rankled by Ramsay's comment, but he held his tongue. He knew that losing his temper wouldn't help him here.

Ramsay seemed displeased that his comment did not have the desired affect; he bared his teeth slightly and then stepped over to stand in front of Meera.

"What do we have here?" He remarked as he looked her up and down critically. Meera glared back at him, not even making a sound. Ramsay smiled his widest smile yet as he turned back to Bran.

He seemed to be holding back laughter as he spoke. "I'm disappointed Prince Bran; of all the women in the world, you chose this Frogeater to travel with you. Cripple or not, it's sad you couldn't find one more...womanly."

Ramsay shrugged before walking away from them; he stopped and seemed to make up his mind.

"Unless of course, the girl just happens to prefer cripples to whole men." He remarked before barking a laugh and adding. "Well, even if the prize is poor, I hate to let it slip away or go to waste." He remarked. "Take the broken Prince down to the dungeon. Take the girl to the barracks; let it be known to the men that she's free for them to take as they please."

Meera's eyes widened in anger, a muffled shriek escaping her as she immediately struggled against her captors. The men just laughed and began to drag her towards the barracks. Bran saw the fear in her eyes and felt his heart beat quicken in panic. His voice stuck in his throat until Ramsay spoke again.

"If she resists or gives the men any trouble, they are free to whip her, beat her, whatever they want." He paused and then added, "They can even fuck her harder for all I care."

Finally Bran couldn't stay silent any longer, he had to try and protect Meera, even if he could only do so with words.

"No stop, don't hurt her!" He cried out, he could hear the men laughing but couldn't care less. "She's the daughter of Lord Howland Reed of Greywater Watch; he'll pay you a large ransom for her."

Ramsay barked a laugh and shook his head. "As if I care, why would I ransom some dirty Frogeater? She's probably not even a maiden; but of course, you'd probably already know that."

Bran flushed crimson as Ramsay continued. "The men can fuck her, whip her, beat her all they want, but you will be my ransom, Prince of Winterfell."

"Please, just don't do this...!" Bran attempted to beg but was cut off.

A harsh voice called out. "Shut up!"

Suddenly Bran's cheek exploded with pain, he heard the snap of a whip and knew that was what struck him. Warm blood welled from the mark as he fought back tears. Ramsay was shouting furiously now at the man for attacking Bran without orders, and before long a Maester had treated Bran's injury as he helplessly watched Meera get dragged into the barracks. He was then dragged down into the dungeons, one of the cells was opened, he was unbound, thrown inside and the door was closed, leaving him in the semi-darkness which consumed him.

Bran felt himself trembling as he forced himself to move. Using his arms to pull himself over to the wall; dragging the dead weight of his legs behind him. Once his back was against the wall he reached up and touched his cheek. The Maester had treated the wound but it still stung when he gingerly felt the swollen area. Bran groaned, it was confirmation that this wasn't a nightmare, this was really happening. It was then he heard the screams; the closeness of the barracks to the dungeon entrance confirmed his fears.

"Meera!" He cried out desperately.

It was definitely her screaming. Bran knew her voice well; he could also hear raised voices, male voices, some were joyful, others shouting out words of encouragement. He realized he was now gripping his knees tightly as something else came to him.

'_Jojen's Greendream...Flayed men, and then...darkness and a woman screaming, it was Meera's screams.'_ He realized this to his horror as Meera's screams grew louder.

Several feelings bubbled up inside him: fear for Meera and rage at those men and Ramsay for what they were doing. Guilt for not doing more to try and protect her, utter disappointment in himself for being so helpless; and the longer time passed and longer he heard her screams, the more terror he felt for her well-being.

Sometimes her screams were muffled, other times they were the loudest noise he could hear. He heard all this and was forced to sit there helpless and let it happen, unable to do anything to stop it. All those feelings felt like they were boiling over, guilt and rage being the most prominent. He lowered his head until his forehead touched his knees and covered his ears; desperate to block out the noise. He prayed fervently, both to the Old Gods of his father and his mother's New Gods. He prayed for the torment he and Meera were going through to stop. Her torment was physical; his was an assault on the mind. He just wanted it to stop.

Bran did not know how long it was, he had lost track of time. But at one point, he took his hands away from his ears and froze. There was silence; he couldn't hear Meera's screams anymore. Cold fear gripped his heart again; had they killed her? Heavy footsteps echoed through the dungeon, he looked up fearfully. He heard the jangling of keys and then the groaning hinge of a rusty door. He could see the guards in the doorway, supporting someone between them.

"Here you are cripple; she's still in one piece," one of guards announced. "We've had fun with her, but you can have what's left."

One of the others laughed and added. "Turns out she was a maid after all, at least when we started she was..."

With that they threw the figure into the cell, closed the door and locked it again. Bran looked down nervously. It was Meera; he let out a shuddering gasp when he saw the state she was in. She was completely naked; angry red whip welts covered her back, buttocks, legs, and even her breasts. Her bottom lip was split, and her left cheek was red and swollen. Worse still he could see that she had been bleeding between her legs. Rivulets of blood had partially dried in their trail down her thighs, and there was more blood coming out from between her buttocks too. Bran noted that there was a whitish fluid mixed in with the blood. She was trembling and coughing violently; some of the whitish fluid came out of her mouth as she coughed.

"M-Meera." He called out hesitantly.

His voice seemed to bring her to life. Her eyes snapped open and she forced herself onto her hands and knees. She looked around desperately and then finally saw him, her shoulders relaxing in relief. Bran was embarrassed by her nakedness and looked away politely. He heard her pick up the ceramic bowl of water and retreat to the corner of the cell. Bran tried hard to focus on something else, be he couldn't shake the awkwardness, like he was intruding, but he couldn't think of anything to say to calm things down.

Suddenly he felt arms wrap around his shoulders. He turned his head and Meera was there. She was still naked, and shivering, as there was nothing in the cell she could use. She had managed to clean the blood and all that whitish fluid off her. He guessed she had cleaned her mouth out too. There was silence, he knew that something horrific had happened to her, while he couldn't understand the details he had a rough idea what had happened. The horror was reflected in her eyes. Yet he saw something else there; something he didn't expect to see, determination and even her voice reflected it as she spoke.

"Don't worry, Bran," she stated calmly."I'll get us out of here, I promise. I'll do it."

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	10. Catelyn II

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**Emeloo2: Yeah, it's a harsh time and you're right; her determination to save Bran is what's keeping her focused right now. Glad you enjoyed it :)  
magnus374: Actually it has, the only thing holding her together is her desire to save Bran and get him out of Dreadfort.  
HarryPotterLover1996: Yup, got that right; luckily she has something to keep her from breaking down, for now at least.  
**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Catelyn**

Catelyn walked through the camp; she could feel the tense, almost hostile atmosphere. Today was the day of Jeyne's trial and Catelyn could only pray that the truth would be proven. She had listened to the men talking and the gossip around the camp; it appeared that her uncle, the Greatjon, and herself were the only ones who truly believed Jeyne was innocent. She approached the commander's tent where all the bannermen were gathered. She entered the tent, all eyes turned to her briefly and then the men resumed what they were doing. She walked over to the top table where Brynden Tully and Jon Umber sat; there was a seat next to her uncle that was empty. She took her seat there and waited for the trial to begin. She looked around at the men present, those which represented Robb's remaining bannermen. Umber, Glover, Mormont, several others were present, but those were the most prominent of the northlords. The lords of the Riverlands that sat most prominently were Bracken, Blackwood and Mallister. It truly worried Catelyn that so many of these men readily felt that Jeyne had betrayed Robb like the rest of her family. As far as Catelyn knew, the plan she had laid out with Jeyne might be the young queen's only chance at survival.

Then the Greatjon stood and called out.

"Silence." The men all fell quiet and he continued. "Now; we all know why this trial is being held. So, let us begin and find the answers."

The men murmured their assent; a few of them also muttered angrily under their breath, likely disparaging comments about Jeyne.

Brynden then spoke, his voice serious. "This is a proper trial understand, we shall conduct this fairly; we won't have petty personal grievances clouding our judgement. Is that understood?"

His serious words were met with only a few murmurs of assent, mostly from the Umber's and Tully's. There was silence from the others, some even seemed angry at this; likely they had already made up their minds about Jeyne and her 'guilt'. Finally the Greatjon called out.

"Let us begin; bring Her Grace inside!"

Following his words the tent flaps were opened again and Jeyne was brought in, flanked by two guards. They were assigned to protect her, as much as guard her. She stopped in the middle of the tent; all eyes were now upon her and the trial began.

The Greatjon spoke directly to Jeyne; his voice was a mixture of respect and yet also authority. "Your Grace; you have been brought here to answer for the crime of treason against your King."

Jeyne stood straight; she knew the dangers she faced, she knew she only had three true friends in the tent. Yet she remained strong and gave her reply.

"I am not guilty of the crimes you accuse me of." She replied with firm conviction.

Almost at once there was uproar, several of the men bellowed at her; denouncing her claims and declaring her a liar. The Greatjon and Brynden were trying to restore order. Catelyn glared and then called out.

"Silence all of you." Her voice rang out and the men turned to her. "You agreed to have a trial; yet you act as if the sentence has already been decided. You should hear her side of the story before you pass judgement."

One of the gathered lords glared at her. "What would you know of these matters, my lady? You are a woman and are hardly a fair judge."

Catelyn knew that he was right on his second point at least; Jeyne was the wife of her son, nobody expected her to be unbiased. However, the distraction caused by the man's remark and the further outbreak gave Catelyn time to lock eyes with Jeyne's. She nodded almost imperceptibly and Jeyne returned the gesture, indicating she understood. Above all the argument and shouting Jeyne's voice rose as she spoke.

"My lady is right; you will not give me a fair trial; any of you." She declared, capturing the attention of everyone present. "Therefore I put my hands in the unbiased judges, the Gods. I demand a Trial by Combat."

Catelyn knew Jeyne had that right, and as predicted nobody refused her. Catelyn smiled as she remembered the meeting she had with Jeyne last night.

'_Now, once they choose their champion Jeyne can name hers and then there will be no questioning her innocence.'_ Catelyn thought to herself as a man stepped forwards to volunteer to fight Jeyne's champion.

Catelyn observed the man; going by his cloak and sigil he was clearly a Frey. She was outraged that such a man was still allowed here and questioned her uncle about him.

"He is a swordsman; he is kept alive by us for two reasons. His apparent strength, although I suspect his exploits are boasts and little more, and we have no legitimate means to kill him without drawing attention to our actions."

Catelyn nodded; realizing that her plan would effectively allow the army to deal with their problem involving the Frey warrior. Finally Jeyne spoke.

"I name Brienne of Tarth as my champion." She declared. Catelyn nodded; just as they had planned.

Behind Catelyn's smile her thoughts raced. _'I just hope this gamble pays off; I had to convince Jeyne to choose Brienne, how she defeated Loras Tyrell was persuasion enough.'_

There was some muttering as Brienne, in her full armour and a half-helm, stepped forwards to accept her role as Jeyne's champion. The Frey warrior laughed when he saw who his opponent was; instantly disregarding her because of her gender.

'_A foolish mistake.'_ Catelyn noted to herself, knowing first hand of Brienne's strength.

At the Greatjon's order the tent flaps were pulled back and fastened so everyone could see outside. Brienne and the Frey Warrior (who, according to Brynden, was another Walder Frey) stepped outside. They stopped and faced each other, standing in an arena of grass outside the tent; swords drawn at the ready.

Walder seemed confident of his victory; he didn't even accept his helmet.

"This will be a quick fight. A woman this big and ugly is still a woman." He jeered with an air of arrogance. "She will be no challenge, simply playing at swords more likely."

Brienne didn't say anything in reply. Catelyn guessed she was used to hearing things like this and simply ignored them. Finally, with a shout to the contestants, the Trial by Combat began. Walder moved towards his opponent and made a lazy strike to her side. He seemed momentarily surprised at how swiftly his attack had been blocked. Growling he struck again, and again. Brienne parried each blow with calculated precision. She was holding back, Catelyn noted.

Jeyne watched on anxiously; Catelyn was all too aware of the fears plaguing the poor girl, and knew she was resisting the urge to look to her for reassurance.

Finally Brienne seemed to have felt the Frey had faced enough humiliation, and it was now time to end this mummer's farce. She acted quickly, swatting aside Walder's sword and brought her own down on his neck. The blade easily sliced through and killed the Frey in one smooth, but fatal, blow. She sheathed the blade and turned to face the assembled lords and bowed deeply. There was silence and then even those who had held the strongest conviction in Jeyne's guilt were clamouring for her forgiveness. The Gods themselves had just proven her innocence, so who were they to deny it?

The body of Walder was taken away and, as Brienne cleaned her sword, the Greatjon called an end to the trial, declaring Jeyne innocent.

Before the celebration could even begin a messenger arrived carrying news that would cease all further festivities. Apparently an army of Frey soldiers was approaching; it was clear they had been found and the on-comers were here to fight. With stern instructions the men all gathered their weapons; Catelyn and Jeyne were to remain in the commander's tent with Brienne guarding them. Catelyn felt her fears mounting; had she saved Jeyne only for them all to die at the hands of the Frey's? She could only wait and find out.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	11. Arya III

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**gugadg: Yes, I specify quite plainly in Catelyn's first chapter at least three times that he is alive.  
Baccan: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, here's the next chapter.  
magnus374: Yup; that's what I thought myself; glad you enjoyed it :)  
HarryPotterLover1996: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, yeah, I agree, they do.  
**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Arya**

The night had been a restless one; they had both argued because Gendry insisted that he take the watch. She pointed out that he would need rest too, but he brushed it off, stating he was the only one who could. She had been enraged by that, true she couldn't see, but that didn't mean she couldn't hear. If anything her hearing was sharper now. However, despite their fears, the bandits did not seem to be pursuing them. They continued onwards; as they walked Arya lost herself in her thoughts.

'_Those bandits, they had to be one of the dangers we were warned about.' _She pondered. _'If that's true and what Jaqen said is right...There's two more ahead.'_

Finally she sighed; seeing nothing but darkness only compounded her frustration and the slight gnawing feeling of fear in the back of her mind.

"Gendry?" She asked hesitantly; she wanted him to reassure her of something, but didn't want to seem scared; finally she made up her mind. "Are we still heading the right way...you do remember what I told you?"

She heard Gendry chuckle. "Yes, I remember, we're going the right way, don't worry about a thing m'lady."

Arya scowled but of course the bandages hid that. So she did the only thing she could do, especially with Gendry holding her elbow to keep her from stumbling or walking into a tree. She lashed out blindly and smacked his thigh.

"I told you not to call me that." She snarled.

Gendry merely laughed in response.

They finally stopped and Arya heard what sounded like water.

"A river, could the Trident." He stated.

Arya nodded. "If we've been going north, it's most likely. Do you see a way across?"

"Not here."

She sighed, that seemed to be her luck, she had finally reached the Trident but couldn't cross it. So close to finally reaching familiar surroundings and now stuck.

She shook her head, exasperated. "C'mon, let's keep looking, we'll find a way across, somewhere."

There was a short pause before Gendry agreed with her and they continued their search, now following the Trident, attempting to find a means to cross. However before they knew it night had fallen and they were still no closer to finding a way across. While annoyed at this Arya knew they had no choice and so agreed with Gendry that they should stop for the night. She wasn't sure how much time had passed but she must've drifted off to sleep. The next thing she knew Gendry was shaking her awake.

"Those bandits, they've come after us again." He warned.

Arya scrambled to try and get to her feet, without success. Gendry made a frustrated groan before simply lifting her up and carrying her, he took off running as they began their escape. She could hear the bandits yelling and knew they weren't far behind.

As they struggled onwards Arya felt a rare surge of panic. The bandits were drawing ever closer. Suddenly Gendry veered left and suddenly Arya could hear the splashing of water as Gendry began to cross the Trident. She was initially panicked but then realized that Gendry must've found a calmer part of the river to cross, for he was not swept away by the current. They reached the other side.

"Gendry, those…" She began but he cut across her.

"I know, they're still after us." He confirmed. "We have to…"

He stopped sharply as a new sound reached their ears. A loud howling that could only belong to wolves.

Arya groaned. "First bandits, now wolves."

"I thought you'd be happy about that." Gendry remarked. "Aren't you Stark's wolves?"

Arya shook her head. "This isn't the time for jokes."

Gendry sighed. "You're right, sorry."

Arya was about to reply when suddenly Gendry stumbled over a tree root and they both fell to the ground. Arya heard the bandits whoop in delight before suddenly yelling in terror. She heard the growls and suddenly Gendry was lying on top of her protectively. She could hear the growling, tearing, and cries and knew the wolves were ripping the bandits apart. Finally she managed to wriggle free. Gendry, despite his attempts to shield her, was actually crushing her under his body.

Once she was free she felt Gendry pull her behind her as he stood up, drawing his sword.

"The wolves have killed the bandits and…" He paused and then groaned. "Looks like they're going to come for us."  
Arya also groaned. "What's going on exactly, how many are there?"

"Too many." Was the answer, "Looks like their being led by that one, larger than all the others, female, yellow eyes…"  
Arya froze as she listened to Gendry's description, it was familiar. She knew right away just who that wolf was. Her heart leapt, she could get them out of danger, she was certain of it. She pushed past Gendry and called out, hoping she was facing the large wolf, or rather, the Direwolf.

"Nymeria!" She yelled out. "Nymeria, it's me."

Gendry gasped. "What are you doing?" He hissed but Arya ignored him, focusing on the Direwolf.

She reached up and, ignoring Gendry's protests, pulled the bandages away from her eyes. She knew Nymeria would respond more if she could see her properly. She noted that her vision had improved slightly more, but still not the full recovery she was hoped for. She stepped forwards; towards the dark shadow that she was now certain was Nymeria; her long lost Direwolf.

There was growling from the other wolves but a sharp snap from Nymeria silenced them. Gendry gave a sharp intake of breath and waited silently.

"Nymeria, don't you recognize me?" She asked. "It's me, Arya…I…I'm sorry I drove you away, but if you stayed you would've been killed."

Still silence followed; Arya grit her teeth and tried again.

"Please Nymeria, don't hurt us…I know you can hear me, I know you understand." She said, "Please, just let us go, I…I never wanted you to go away, but please, don't hurt us."

More silence followed until finally Nymeria howled. Arya tensed as the surrounding wolves answered with their own haunting cries. After several agonizingly long seconds passed, the dark shapes finally began to melt away. Nymeria, the biggest of the blurred shapes, stalked towards her.

"Arya?" Gendry called out in warning but she didn't flinch.

Nymeria stopped in front of Arya; the Direwolf had grown so that now she stood on level height with the girl. The wolf licked her face once before turning and bounding away. Arya sighed; she guessed Nymeria wouldn't return to her, but still it hurt, having it finally happen. She felt Gendry take her arm and fought to control herself. But she couldn't, a few tears welled up and she furiously brushed them away. Gendry caught her arms.

"Don't, that'll make your eyes worse." He told her, "We need to get another bandage on; then we can rest up."

She sighed and nodded in agreement. They worked in silence and finally her eyes were bandaged again; Arya prayed that next time they took them off, she would have fully recovered.

After a moment of silence, during which she tried to get comfortable enough to sleep on the rough ground, Gendry spoke.

"Was she one of the Direwolves you told me about?" He asked.

"Yes, she was." Arya replied, "Nymeria, she was mine…I…I drove her away to save her life, after she attacked Joffrey on the way to King's Landing."  
She told Gendry the whole story about the incident, including the fate of Lady, Sansa's Direwolf. By the time she was done she was exhausted and felt inexplicably sad.

Gendry seemed to notice, and after a pause he then spoke up. "You cared about her a great deal…That's why it hurts, but you did the right thing…Maybe Nymeria knows that too."

Arya managed a smile. "Yes, I hope you are right."

With nothing more to say she let herself get comfortable again. It was only then she realized that the wolves had been the second danger Jaqen had warned of, there was still one more waiting for them.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	12. Sansa III

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**gugadg: I'm surprised you missed it given that, in her first chapter, Catelyn references three times, once in her thoughts, once to the Greatjon and Blackfish and once to Jeyne that Robb is alive. As for your question; I'm not spoiling anything, all I'll say is soon, very soon.  
Baccan: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, yeah; I figured that myself, anyway, enjoy; I think the fight in this chapter is one a lot of people will like.  
HarryPotterLover1996: Yup, there is; well, it's slowly improving all the time, although she will never completely regain her sight.  
SayianWizard: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it; sorry to say but Robb won't be a POV character in this story, maybe not even this series; however if you PM me and tell me you're interested I'll tell you the POV characters I have confirmed so far.**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Sansa**

Sansa was still reeling in shock from actually killing someone; the silence was almost unbearable. When she had awoken, cold, perspiring and out of breath, she looked down at her hands. They were drenched in blood; the blood of the man she had killed. She leapt up and rushed to the nearby stream and began trying to scrub the blood off. When the sob escaped her throat Sandor heard and saw what she was doing. He approached her.

"That's enough; you'll scrape the skin off, little bird." He said gruffly.

She stammered a few times before choking the words out. "B-but…the…the blood…"

She looked up and saw a strange expression on his face. The lines of his face had softened, and his eyes were empathetic.

"There's nothing there." He told her.

She looked down at her hands again. They were wet, very pink from the scrubbing, but there wasn't a trace of blood on them. There never had been.

"But…But I…" She trailed off, still in shock.

Sandor nodded. "It's like that the first time; especially after those circumstances. It'll pass."

She nodded slowly and realized she was trembling. She tried to still herself but Sandor didn't seem to notice. Instead he gathered up everything they needed and turned to her.

"Let's go, we need to hurry." He stated.

She agreed and gathered her things before following him as they continued their trek north.

They walked quietly; Sandor focusing on their surroundings and the route ahead, scanning for danger. Sansa's mind was locked inexorably on the death she had caused. Even as they walked she felt almost sick, a persistent fluttering in her stomach, and she prayed she wasn't going to retch, even though she felt the tight feeling in back of her throat. She found herself wondering how many times it took, killing someone, until you felt nothing at all. She shook her head, she shouldn't be thinking about things like that. She glanced at Sandor, she knew he had killed countless people; he had even bragged about it. Suddenly she found she couldn't help herself and asked.

"How…How long did it take you…to get over it; the first time?" She asked him.

He sighed and shook his head. "I…don't remember, sorry." He glanced back at her. "It will pass; everyone's different, all you can do is wait."

She lowered her head; suddenly Sandor grabbed her arm, he had stopped. She stopped too and looked up at him.

"What…?"

She froze when she saw the tension in his face. She followed his gaze and fear gripped her in its icy grasp. There was a bridge leading across the river, taking them to where they needed to go. But standing on the bridge, blocking their path forwards, was Gregor Clegane.

Sandor growled.

"Typical of the Queen; sends out the person most likely to stop us and puts him here."

Finally he seemed to make up his mind. "Stay hidden little bird. Use the trees, whatever you have to."

With that he drew his sword and stepped out onto the Kingsroad and walked over to the bridge. Gregor gave no sign of emotion as his brother approached him. He stood with his sword, point down in front of him, his helmet under one arm; clad in full armour and his shield on the ground, resting against his leg. Sandor, in comparison, was armed only with his sword and clad in boiled leather and ringmail; he didn't even have his infamous helmet. All the same there was no apprehension in his voice when he spoke, only the usual contempt he reserved for his brother.

"Gregor." He greeted darkly. "Has Cersei demoted you to a mere bridge guard now?"

Gregor glowered but his response was simple, with little emotion. "You know why I'm here. Where is the Stark girl?"

Sandor's mouth twisted. "If I knew, did you presume I would inform you?" He paused before adding. "Now, I am going north. Are you going to stop me or have you come just to talk?"

Gregor simply put his helmet on and took up his shield and sword before answering simply. "Stop you, kill you."

"Then come and try." Sandor spat back.

They then began their deadly dance.

Sansa watched, petrified as she hid behind the trees nearest the path. Both warriors fought and parried each other's blows; Gregor using his shield to block some of the blows aimed at him. Most of the combat was too fast for Sansa to follow but she could see that neither fighter was gaining an advantage. That was until Sandor launched a vicious two handed strike that splintered the shield. He then followed it up with a knee strike and slammed the pommel of his sword down on Gregor's helmet. Sandor leapt back out of reach of Gregor's counter attack. The swing went wide and Gregor, clearly frustrated, ripped his helmet off. He turned to face his brother again, his face contorted with rage. Then suddenly he reached out with his free hand and grabbed a nearby torch. Sandor tensed and suddenly grew more wary.

"It's a pity I only got half your face that day." Gregor snarled. "I'll finish the job now."

With that he resumed his attack, lashing out with his sword and the torch, forcing Sandor onto the defensive. Before long Sandor was bent back, leaning against the side of the bridge, using his sword to ward of his brother's and his free hand to hold back the hand that held the torch. He breathed heavily, desperately trying to break free of his predicament.

Sansa watched, panic building up inside her. She knew she had to do something but what could she do, especially against the Mountain that Rides. After a few minutes and idea occurred to her; it was only a small thing, but without Gregor's helmet on, it just might work. Reaching down her hand finally closed on a small stone. With all her strength she threw it; time seemed to slow down as she watched. The stone flew through the air and finally, struck. Gregor grunted as the stone hit the side of his head but the distraction was enough. Sandor managed to bring his knee up to strike Gregor in the groin. The dull clang indicated that no true damage was done, but the jolt threw Gregor off balance. As Gregor dropped the torch Sandor spun out from his grasp and got behind his brother. With all his strength Sandor kicked out and allowed the weight of Gregor's armour to carry him forwards and downwards. Gregor fell through the wooden barrier at the edge of the bridge and into the river. While, at this point the river wasn't deep enough to submerge Gregor, the current swept him away, howling curses at his brother.

Sandor breathed a sigh and sheathed his sword. He turned and Sansa walked towards him, nervous.

"I…" She hesitated but Sandor smiled.

"That was some quick thinking, little bird." He remarked. "We best hurry on."

Sansa seemed surprised at his haste. He then indicated ahead of them, past the bridge.

"We are nearly there."

She stepped up next to him and looked over the plains and woodland across the bridge. Her heart leapt when she saw it; standing, half hidden amongst the woodland was an army camp. Flying from the standard atop the commander's tent was the banner; a grey Direwolf on and ice white field. They had found her brother's camp; if they continued walking and didn't stop they would reach it as the sun set. She smiled and nodded to Sandor and they progressed onwards.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	13. Arya IV

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**Noek: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, here's the next chapter :)  
magnus374: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, yeah, that's what I thought too :)  
SayianWizard: Yeah well, we can only wait and see; glad you enjoyed it, here's the next one.  
HarryPotterLover1996: Yup, she is, however now we must go back in time a bit to catch up with Arya. As for your question, read on and find out :)**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Arya**

There was silence again as they walked; Arya was quiet, her mind on Nymeria. It had been three days since they had met her, Arya still felt the sadness from the incident. She never truly realized how much she had missed her Direwolf until that moment. All the same it still hurt. Realizing that continuing north would bring them past the Twins, and onto the marshes around Greywater Watch and Moat Cailin, they had turned their direction westward.

Respectful of her sudden melancholy, Gendry had stayed silent too. He was listening carefully to the surroundings; he remembered the warning that Arya's strange friend had given them. It had been cryptic but Arya explained it to him. They still had one more danger to brave before they could be assured of their safety. Worried that going too far west would cause them to miss the camp they turned southwest. Two more days passed and in that time they had changed direction again, going south. Arya's melancholy giving way to frustration.

"Ugh, this is getting us nowhere," she grumbled. "There must be some clue, something we missed, something that points us in the right direction."

Gendry sighed and shook his head. "I know what you mean, but there's been nothing. I don't know if..."

Suddenly he stopped; Arya also heard it, more footsteps. Possibly more trouble.

However the heavy boot-clad footsteps soon faded from earshot, leaving them standing restlessly. Finally Arya couldn't take the silence any longer.

"What is that?" She whispered. "Who could it be?"

"No idea, but we're close to the Kingsroad, could just have been a traveller." Gendry answered.

Arya shook her head. "How many travellers do you think there are these days?"

She heard him sigh and then finally he took her arm again.

"You're right; let's go." With that he led her onwards; however she had concerns.

"Wait, where are we going?" She asked frantically.

"The sign I saw on the road said this way leads to Riverrun." He replied and Arya's heart leapt.

"Good."

He seemed surprised until she explained it was the seat of her mother's family. Satisfied with this Gendry began to lead her along the forest path next to the Kingsroad. Arya felt that, even if Robb and her mother weren't there, someone who could help her would be. However one thing still bothered her; those footsteps. Were they a herald for on-coming danger? Or just innocent travellers like her, trying to get somewhere safer?

They soon had no other choice but to step out onto the Kingsroad. They needed to cross to get back in the safety of the forest. However Gendry gasped and suddenly Arya found herself on the ground with Gendry crouched over her, his sword drawn. She could hear men approaching from all around them.

Gendry whispered the worst words possible; the third danger was now on them.

"Lannister Soldiers."

Arya and Gendry had escaped two traps, only to fall into a devastating third.

The Lannister soldiers closed in.

"Up, both of you." One of them commanded. "You, boy, up, get your blind little brother up too."

Gendry dropped his sword and stood up, lifting Arya too. Her hair was still short enough that they hadn't realized she was a girl. They stood still; Gendry now had his arms around her protectively. She fought to control her breathing, not wanting to seem afraid. She heard the Lannister soldiers move closer.

Suddenly one inhaled sharply. "Look at the lad, there's no question, he's one of them."

"Aye," another replied. "Very well; take him alive, get to it."

"The blind girl...?"

"I don't care." The soldier that seemed to be in command snapped. "Kill her, leave her, do whatever you want."

Arya suddenly felt armoured hands grab her shoulders and Gendry's grip slip from her arm as they dragged him back. She immediately struggled and kicked, trying to get free. Being blind however made it hopeless.

"Stop wasting your strength, girl." The man holding her growled. "It'll make things a lot easier for you...You'll have a much better chance of survival."

Arya growled and then felt her anger flare as the man began to remove Needle from her belt. Suddenly he let out a choked gasp and she felt his grasp weaken before falling off her. She heard the faint, yet unmistakable, whistling of arrows; immediately followed by more choked gasps. Hands grabbed her and she struggled again until the person spoke, his voice instantly calming her.

"Arya! Arya relax, it's me." It was Gendry; she stopped struggling and realized all was quiet.

"The Lannisters are dead; the archers are coming, just hold on, we don't know if they'll help us yet."

She nodded, then waited for the unnamed archers to make themselves known. She could feel Gendry presence at her side, his stance defensive. Suddenly an unfamiliar voice broke the tension.

"Put the sword down, boy, or you'll go the same way as that Lannisters scum."

She heard the dull clang of a sword hitting the ground.

A brief pause followed before Gendry replied to the new comer. "We're not a threat; you just saved us. We're not Lannisters!"

She heard a snort of disbelief, but then another voice made itself known. One that sounded very familiar to her.

"Lower your bows. Do it!" Another pause as the men presumably did as they were told. "I need to be sure; let the girl go. I need you to step forward, young lady. Let me see you carefully."

Where did she know that voice, it was right there; tickling the back of her mind. Gendry turned her so she was facing the speaker, he then let her go. Hesitant but knowing she had no other choice, and so she stepped forwards and waited, the tension mounting again until it was almost unbearable.

"Arya." He breathed, almost inaudibly. Then all became clear.

Behind the bandages her eyes widened and she fought to get her mouth to work; only one word escaped her lips. "Robb?"

At long last, she had found her eldest brother.

She realized she was shaking, a sob escaped her throat and suddenly arms encircled her. She finally realized that Robb was the one holding her. She felt herself clinging to him as finally the tears fell. She couldn't believe it, after everything; the death of her father, the rough living in King's Landing. Then the travelling with Yoren, fearful of being found out, being captured and taken to Harrenhal. The rough and cruel treatment there and then the escape and the steady journey north; blind and fearful, constantly looking over her shoulder for danger. All the fear and terror left her then; finally, for the first time in a long time, she felt safe, secure. She could relax, rest and recover; everything that had been denied to her since her family was betrayed.

"Arya, I'm so glad to see you again." Robb murmured into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "You…I thought you were dead."

Arya swallowed the thick lump in her throat. It was the longest time for her, she had refused to allow herself to cry but now she couldn't stop the tears, even if she wanted. Finally, a long time later they stepped back, Arya let out a long shaky breath. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders; one that she had borne for a long time.

When she finally felt calm again she heard Robb's voice, full of concern.

"Arya, what happened to you…why are you…?"

She gulped and sighed. "It'll…It'll take a long time to explain. I can explain the bandages right now at least."

Robb listened while she detailed the incident involving the explosion and what had happened to her eyes and what she had to wait for. Robb nodded, seemingly satisfied for now. There was more silence before Robb spoke again.

"Who is this?" He asked, Arya was able to guess who he meant.

She smiled. "This is Gendry. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have made it this far…I wouldn't have even escaped Harrenhal."

She heard Robb's boots scuff the earth as he approached her companion, then heard him speak, his voice grateful.

"I am deeply thankful to you then, Gendry." He said happily. "I owe you a debt of gratitude."

Gendry, remembering what Arya had told him, bowed and replied. "Thank you your grace, but you don't owe me anything."

She heard Robb laugh then unexpectedly he then stopped and spoke in a serious tone.

"Well, we'll talk more later. We have important work to do," he said. "You can come with us to the camp, then I'll leave some men to keep an eye on you both; while we're fighting. I'll send word as soon as we're successful."

Arya nodded in agreement and; still feeling light-headed and relieved at the reunion with her brother, she let Gendry guide her as they followed Robb and his men, finally to safety.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	14. Bran IV

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**Baccan: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it.  
magnus374: Yup, Robb is back; glad you enjoyed it :)  
**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Bran**

Bran kept his eyes closed; listening to Meera's ragged breathing. Bran wasn't sure exactly, but at least a day or two had passed since they were thrown into the dungeon. As the time passed several swollen and tender red bruises formed on Meera's skin. When they first appears Bran felt his rage returning, it was a reminder of the horrific treatment she had received and Bran knew that these obvious beatings were given to her for resisting something much worse. Something which happened anyway; his mind flashed back to the blood between her legs and he forced himself to stay calm. Anger wouldn't help him now. He opened his eyes, trying to stifle the awkwardness he felt.

Meera was regarded by the occupants of Dreadfort as a means of pleasure; her own well-being meant nothing to them. As such she hadn't even been given the simplest of clothing. At Bran's insistence that he wouldn't need it she had taken the single worn blanket in the cell and used it to improvise some clothing. Or at least, improvise simple small clothes; the blanket wasn't big enough for anything else. At the very least she wasn't naked anymore. All the same she was still uncomfortable; some of the ragged strips of cloth were in contact with the bruises and caused her pain. However; despite the horror in her eyes and her ragged breathing and occasionally dry heaving several times; she seemed to be in complete control of herself. Even now Bran could see her planning, thinking, and trying to get them out. He admired that strength but was afraid if she didn't let out her feelings soon she would break, and at the wrong moment.

Finally, however, it seemed Meera had decided something; she turned to him quickly.

"Bran, listen to me. No matter what happens next, I need you to say and do nothing do you understand? Just stay where you are...we're waiting for a guard to come, likely to take me back to the barracks." She paused, shuddered at the memory and then continued. "That's not going to happen though, I need you to draw his attention; put up with whatever insults he tries to throw at you, I need him to come into the cell. Understand."

Bran nodded.

"But...Why?" He asked.

Meera looked grim as she answered. "You'll see; he is going to get us out of this place."

With that she suddenly retreated to a dark corner of the cell, next to the door. It was then Bran heard the heavy footfalls of a guard, becoming louder the closer he approached. He swallowed and waited, his nerves on edge as he prayed Meera's plan would work. He heard the jangling of keys and then the door creaked open. It took Bran's eyes a moment to adjust to the bright torch the guard held as he stepped into the doorway. The flickering flame of the torch contorted the shadows on the guard's faced, making his cruel smirk seem utterly evil.

"So cripple, where's your little frog-eating whore?" He mocked in a savage tone. Bran held his tongue and waited, hoping Meera's plan paid off. "You better answer me boy, or soon it won't just be what's below the waist that you can't use."

Bran continued to remain silent and the man stepped into the cell, glaring.

The guard stepped forwards past Meera's hiding place.

"Last warning boy, where's your little whore?" He growled.

At that exact moment Meera moved out of the shadows and grabbed the man; her arms went around his head and neck. She squeezed and applied as much force as she could muster, then within moments man's desperate gasps ceased and he went limp. She let go and he fell to the ground in a heap. Bran stared in shock but Meera's ragged breathing brought him back to reality. She nodded grimly at him and searched the man thoroughly, even removing his clothing and helm. She shook her head and let out a frustrated sigh when she was done.

"Nothing." She said, "No weapons; he must've left them somewhere, thinking we wouldn't be a threat. Well, at least it wasn't a complete waste."

With that Meera pulled on the guard's clothes; wincing when they came into contact with her bruises. The clothes were two big for her but she pulled the belt tight and ripped the legs of the breeches to the right length. The tunic hung on her slender frame but there wasn't much she could do about that. She picked up the helmet and approached Bran.

She handed it to him. "Here; I doubt it'll be much use in hiding your identity since they know you're with me. But it can least offer some protection for you."

Bran looked at the helmet and back to Meera. "But...What about...?"

"I'll be fine."

He relented and put on the helmet. Meera lifted him up onto her back, a slight grunt being the only indication of her pain, and then, carrying him carefully, left the cell.

As they began to sneak through the dungeons, Meera explained that they would have to hide from the guards. She expected there to only be one guard at the entrance of the dungeons, and she would have put Bran down to subdue the guard. Bran agreed on the precaution that she was careful not to draw suspicion. Meera agreed and, after avoiding two groups of roaming guards, she successfully overcame the one blocking their path out.

They continued onwards until they heard the soft slaps of bare feet on stone. They stopped in the shadows and Meera let Bran down. He sat silently, watching as she prepared to make her move. As the figure walked nearby she grabbed him and pulled him into the shadows. However Bran immediately knew something was wrong; the man didn't look like a guard. In fact he looked like another prisoner.

"Meera, wait!" He whispered urgently; but fortunately she seemed to have noticed too before restraining the stranger.

"P-please!" The man cried out, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, I want to help you."

Meera let him go cautiously, and they both observed him, their eyes narrowed in suspicion. He looked old, his hair white and brittle and he appeared to be in constant agony. He was missing teeth, fingers and toes, dressed in old rags, and he seemed to be shaking constantly. In all he looked like the most pitiable creature imaginable.

"Who are you?" Bran demanded.

The man seemed to shake even worse when Bran spoke. "R-Reek, my name is Reek."

That caught Bran's attention; there had been a Reek in Winterfell when Theon had taken control. But this couldn't be the same Reek; that one had been cruel and evil, this one wasn't. Meera glared at the man.

"Why would you help us?" She asked with an air of distrust.

Reek seemed to struggle before answering, as if just about everything was a torment for him. Going by his appearance it probably was. "I'm as much a prisoner here as you are, but I've found a way out."

Bran perked up at that; even Meera allowed a glimmer of hope to show.

The man named Reek fidgeted and told them of an old passage, hidden away, that he had recently uncovered. He was certain that it led right outside the Dreadfort. He had planned to use it himself but then heard about their imprisonment and decided to free them instead. He explained that he would have to stay behind in order to cover up the entrance and hide their escape as long as possible.

"But why would help us? Us in particular?" Meera questioned him.

Reek's eyes darted over to Bran, met his eyes and swiftly looked to the floor. Finally he mumbled his answer. "For my...redemption."

That confused Bran and Meera but they knew there was no time, they would have to trust Reek and so, after Meera picked Bran up again, they followed him. Reek walked slowly and hobbled, his missing toes clearly affecting his ability to walk.

'_At least he can still actually walk.'_ Bran thought before realizing his bitterness and forced it away.

They continued to follow Reek until they came to what looked like a storeroom, filled with torture equipment. An uncontrollable shiver fell down Meera's spine when she saw the equipment, Bran guessed at least one, if not more of the objects in the room might have been used on Meera in the barracks. Reek carefully moved around some of the equipment and then after some muttering to himself and running his hand along the wall, he found what he was looking for. He then pushed the obscene torture rack aside and revealed the hidden passage.

"There, that should take you out. I would go with you, but then we'd be found out," he explained. "Just go, and don't worry about me...This is what I deserve anyway."

Still confused by Reek's words they did as he said and slipped into the passageway.

True enough they soon emerged outside Dreadfort. Realizing this Meera made sure Bran had a secure grip and then took off running, not looking back and not daring to stop.

After a terrifying sprint of constantly expecting someone to yell out and sound the alarm, they reached a forest clearing. Bran noted that it was the one they had been captured in. Meera suddenly sank to her knees. Bran observed her carefully. Her hair, more dishevelled than usual, was blocking her face from view. However Bran could feel the shake in her shoulders and hear her sobs. Suddenly those sobs turned into dry heaves. Something was different this time. Bran instinctively pulled as much of Meera's hair back and out of the way as possible. Just in time too, Meera lurched forward and retched violently.

Slowly it subsided and Meera gasped for air. Bran tapped her shoulder and pointed over to a nearby stream. Meera managed a small smile and helped him down so he was sitting against the nearby tree. She then hurried over to the stream and washed her face and rinse her mouth. Once done she relaxed onto her knees and breathed a sigh of relief.

Finally seeming back in control she returned to Bran and picked him up, determined to make their way south and as far away as possible from the Dreadfort. Surprisingly, despite the length of time that had passed, Meera could still make out the trail thanks to Jojen's deliberate tracks. They continued to follow it until night fell and they had no choice but to stop, Meera nearly overcome with exhaustion.

It was another cold night so they set things up to keep each other warm again. However this time, Bran was the one who suggested the action. While what he said was true, it was only part of the reason. His feelings for Meera made her distress clear to him; he wanted to do something, anything to comfort her. But all he could do was hold her, even as they lay there, the horrific nightmare of her rape and torture at the hands of Ramsay and his men caused her to break down in tears. Bran did what he could to support her as she cried into his shoulder. Eventually she seemed to calm down.

"Bran I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." She began breathlessly but Bran smiled.

"It's alright Meera; you've been through something terrible, I know that much. Just, if it makes you feel better, then cry. I'm here to help you." He paused and then smiled and added. "You don't have to be so strong all the time."

Seemingly relieved but with no more tears Meera relaxed and slowly drifted off to sleep. Bran however had trouble getting to sleep. He had a distinct fear gnawing at the back of his mind. Meera had explained to him about how they had attacked her, Ramsay even attacked her twice, the first and the last. Yet with that number of men, it was an almost certainty. Bran swallowed the thick lump that had formed in his throat as his mind raced.

'_What if...What if one of those men put a bastard in her belly.'_ He thought, _'What will she do...?'_

His thoughts still rushing Bran finally drifted off into a troubled, restless, sleep.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	15. Catelyn III

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**magnus374: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it; well, when you've got someone depending on you, there's no limit really to what you can accomplish.  
SayianWizard: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it; yeah, they're finally free; well, that'll come later, right now their focus is to reunite with the others.  
HarryPotterLover1886: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, yup, Arya is reunited with her brother. Yeah, Meera's having a hard time right now, but at least they are free.  
**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Catelyn**

Catelyn sighed; she kept her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her knuckles almost white. Her insides felt twisted with worry as she listened to the battle occurring not too far away. Far too close for her liking. She opened her eyes and observed Jeyne, the young Queen of the North, as she paced restlessly around the tent.

Like Catelyn, the close proximity of the battle had her nerves on edge. Brienne stood just outside the tent, guarding the entrance and keeping watch; she had instructions to get Jeyne and Cat away from the tent and battlefield and somewhere safe if things went against the Northern army.

Finally Cat couldn't take the strain anymore and the constant noise of Jeyne's shoes tapping on the ground didn't make things better. Catelyn stood up and made her way to Jeyne, she gently touched her on the shoulder. Jeyne stopped and turned to face Catelyn.

"Y-yes my lady?" She stammered.

Catelyn did her best reassuring smile. "Relax Your Grace, we will all be fine. Don't let yourself be consumed with fear."

Jeyne paused for a moment and then seemed to realize what she had been doing.

"Oh...Oh, I'm sorry my lady, I..." She composed herself with some effort. "You are right, thank you."

Catelyn smiled and nodded, and together they sat down and waited for news. To at least partially sate their curiosity Catelyn called out.

"Brienne, how fares the battle?"

Brienne pulled back the flap and stuck her head in. "There is no change my lady; both sides still fight evenly."

Catelyn thanked Brienne and the warrior woman returned her attention to the outside.

After sitting in an awkward silence Jeyne decided to speak up, to hopefully break the heavy tension.

"My Lady I...I must ask." She hesitated but then continued. "I've only know, Robb and the Tully's. I know almost nothing about the rest of your family, the Stark's, your other children...Robb told a little about them but..."

Catelyn smiled and nodded.

"Yes, I realize that. Well, perhaps I could tell you about them." She replied. "It would take our mind off the battle at least."

Jeyne returned the smile and agreed wholeheartedly. "So, what of your other children? Robb mentioned in passing once that he was the eldest."

Catelyn nodded. "That is correct, Robb is my eldest, after him is Sansa, then Arya. We started this war to save them. Now it seems neither of them are in King's Landing."

Jeyne was surprised by this. "Do you know where...?"

Catelyn shook her head sadly. "No, we've not heard a word about Arya since my lord husband's execution. Sansa was held captive but seems to have escaped the city. If that is true, she is supposedly with Sandor Clegane. Gods only know what he intends."

Jeyne noted the distress on Catelyn's face and so changed the subject.

"What of your other children."

Catelyn managed a small smile. "Bran and Rickon, they were left at Winterfell. Rickon was too young for any of this, Bran...there was an... accident and now...Bran is unable to walk."

Jeyne looked horrified by this; Catelyn observed, to her relief, that her horror was more due to Bran's injuries than the actual fact he was now a cripple.

There was an awkward pause before Catelyn continued with the news of the fall of Winterfell, which Jeyne had overheard before. Jeyne nodded in understanding but seemed confused by something.

"Your Grace?"

After a moment of thought, Jeyne seemed to make up her mind. "Forgive me my lady, but you said you had five children...Robb said there were six."

Catelyn suppressed the urge to groan; of course, she should have expected this. Without delaying further she told Jeyne the truth.

"There is a sixth, but he was not one of mine." She paused briefly to calm herself and then continued. "Jon Snow."  
Jeyne gasped. "Snow...a bastard." When Catelyn confirmed it, Jeyne's shock only grew. "You mean, Lord Eddard Stark..."

"I'm afraid so, but he never told me anything about the boy's mother. It irked me that all the sons I gave, all the children I gave him except for Arya...they all inherited their physical traits from my side of the family. Arya took after her father, but so did Jon. None of the sons I gave Ned possessed the common Stark traits, yet his bastard son did."

Catelyn lowered her head and gathered her thoughts before looking back to Jeyne.

"I am sorry, Your Grace." She said softly. "I should not have burdened you with my woes."

Jeyne shook her head. "It is quite alright my lady. What...What became of Jon Snow?"

Catelyn informed Jeyne of Jon's decision to join the Night's Watch. Before she could continue, the pair was suddenly interrupted by loud cheers from the battle outside. It was quickly followed by even louder ringing of steel striking steel, and the shouts and cries of men. To the women it sounded like the fight had just taken a serious turn; but they couldn't tell if it was for the better, or for worse?

Before Catelyn could even call out, Brienne stuck her head inside the tent. She looked surprised and even elated. This eased Catelyn's fears somewhat.

"My lady, another army of troops just arrived. They are bearing the Stark banner and have reinforced the main army." She paused to allow her news to sink in before adding. "The Frey's have been routed; it looks like victory for us."

Jeyne sank back into her seat; obvious relief covering her face. Catelyn felt relief flood her too and she turned back to Jeyne.

"Come Your Grace; let us greet the army when they return."

Jeyne agreed and together they left the tent, Brienne walking with them as they went to meet the army. They both watched with happiness as they saw the army returning. The men were jovial, exchanging words and laughing, none louder than the Greatjon. However Catelyn felt her breath catch in her throat. She heard Jeyne's sudden gasp too. Riding next to the Greatjon, at the head of the army, was Robb. He had returned!

Knowing he was alive only served to partially still her fears, but to see him before her, unharmed and apparently in good spirits, washed those fears away completely. Robb saw them and, if anything, smiled wider. He dismounted from his horse and approached them. Almost at once Jeyne moved towards him, fighting hard to remember her courtesies. Robb was soon within reach and lovingly embraced his wife, kissing her. They broke apart and Robb approached Cat and embraced her too. Cat returned the embrace, fighting back tears.

Robb's smile was both reassuring and, to Catelyn, mysterious as he made his remark.

"Mother, My Queen, we have won this battle. This is a good victory, in more ways than one."

"Robb," Catelyn breathed. "What do you mean?"

"You will see soon, mother. My old camp is just over that ridge. I've sent word and they'll be here soon." He gestured over to the ridge as he spoke, and as he did men appeared and began to approach.

Catelyn watched as the men reunited with their comrades. Two however caught her attention; they were the only ones not in armour. The first was a boy of around sixteen; with thick black hair and blue eyes. He stood out to Cat as, like Mya Stone in the Vale, he looked vaguely familiar. She also noted a fair resemblance to Mya too.

'_Could this boy also be a bastard, do they have the same father?'_ She wondered.

However the boy was soon pushed from her mind by the second figure. The hair was shorter, the eyes covered with bandages; there were old burns on various parts of the right side of the face and right arm. But all this did not deceive Catelyn; her eyes saw the truth in the figures identity as only a mother's could.

"Arya!" She cried, almost stumbling as she hurried forwards to her youngest daughter.

She saw Arya stiffen and then a smile appeared on her face. Her courtesies forgotten and not caring about any onlookers, Catelyn threw her arms around Arya and pulled her into a tight embrace, fearful to let go.

It wasn't until she heard the sobs that Catelyn realizes she wasn't the only one crying. Arya had returned the embrace and was now in tears. For Catelyn it was as if the Gods had finally decided to show mercy. Arya, the daughter she had feared dead, the one person whom she never thought to see again; never knowing her fate. She was now safe. Catelyn pulled back enough to look her daughter in the face.

Tears still shining in her eyes, Catelyn noted with concern Arya's injuries. "Oh Arya, what happened to you?"

While she meant the injuries she also meant everything else too. Arya realized that.

"I...I don't know where to begin."

It was then Robb, who also hadn't heard her side of events, decided they should convene in the commander's tent to recount her tale. Arya agreed on the condition that the boy, who Catelyn now learned was named Gendry, came with them. Robb agreed, explaining that Gendry was the one responsible for getting Arya back to them. So they returned to the commander's tent, and they sat and listened to Arya and Gendry as they told them of their journey. Robb and Cat were amazed and horrified in equal measure. Finally, when they were done Catelyn turned to Gendry.

"I cannot thank you enough, Gendry, for helping my daughter return safely to me." She said sincerely.

"I...thank you m'lady." He mumbled unable to meet her eyes, and feeling somewhat awkward.

Catelyn continued to watch as Robb introduced Gendry and Arya to Jeyne. She felt happier than she had in a long time. Two of her children were back with her; it was more than she had hoped for.

After the reunion was over, things grew more serious. With their army reformed, Robb felt it was time to retake the North, as well as all the other ground they had lost. Starting with the Twins. The commanders came in to begin the planning while Catelyn led Arya out; Gendry and Jeyne accompanied them.

"I better get to work." Gendry stated. "Those swords won't mend themselves."

He left while Jeyne also left, returning to her personal tent. Catelyn smiled and led Arya to her tent.

"I'll talk to the camp followers about setting up a tent for you." She explained to Arya. "Until then, you can stay here with me."

Arya nodded and Catelyn finally allowed herself to relax.

She took in Arya's appearance and sighed sadly. "Honestly Arya, I've never seen you in such a state, we'll have to get you cleaned up."

"But mother..." Arya began but stopped, Catelyn's voice had left no room for argument. "Fine."

Catelyn sent some of the camp followers to prepare a bath when an unexpected messenger arrived to see her.

"My lady, please, come to commander's tent." He cried breathlessly. "It's urgent."

"What has happened?"

The messenger shook his head. "It'll be better if you see for yourself."

At that point two of the camp followers had returned. Catelyn ordered them to see to Arya's bath and, at Arya's behest, left them instructions to wash the clothes she had been wearing. She also ordered that when the bath was done, to remove the bandages and if necessary, apply fresh ones. Once those instructions were acknowledged she followed the messenger to the commander's tent, wondering what was so important and why it required her presence.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	16. Sansa IV

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story.

**Reviews**

**jau0062: Yup she's back, glad you enjoyed it :)  
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Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Sansa**

Their pace was fast now. They were drawing closer to the camp. The Direwolf banner appeared as a beacon of hope to Sansa. Sandor was notably apprehensive, but that was understandable.

"They will hear you out," she told him. "I'll ensure it."

He merely grunted and nodded in reply. They soon reached the boundary of the camp. They were in luck; Sansa realized when they saw that the camp guards were currently talking to one of her father's, now one of her brother's, bannermen. He recognized her instantly and his disbelief showed. Finally he stepped forwards.

"Who...No, it cannot be," he stammered. "It is... Princess Sansa?"

The title perplexed Sansa for a moment until she remembered that Robb had declared himself King in the North, making the rest of his siblings Princes and Princesses.

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, it is me."

He nodded slowly as he turned his gaze towards Sandor and glared. "And...The Hound?"

Sandor merely nodded, a small smile appearing. Sansa quickly interjected.

"He's with me. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have made it here," she explained desperately. "He saved my life, more than once; he's the one who helped me escape from King's Landing."

The man, who Sansa now remembered was Galbart Glover, seemed even more surprised by this.

"So..." he remarked finally. "I assume you didn't just bring her here out of kindness."

Sandor gave his usual rasping laugh and replied. "If you think I came to ransom her, my price isn't gold, I assure you. But I will only name it to your King."

Galbart relented and escorted them through the camp, through the midst of surprised stares, towards the central tent.

They reached the tent and entered, all those inside looked up and froze. However Sansa found her attention drawn to only one of them. Her brother, Robb, at the head of the large table. Robb stared, stunned, before he slowly stood up.

"Sansa?" He gasped. "You...You're alive, safe."

She nodded. "Yes I...Robb I..."

Robb shook his head and quickly called a messenger over.

"Go to my mother's tent and bring her here. Tell it is urgent and she needs to come immediately."

The messenger bowed and hurried away. Robb turned back to Sansa.

"I can scarce believe it." He said, wonder in his voice. "So, you managed to escape the Lannisters and make it here?" He paused and then turned his gaze to Sandor. "Thanks to you, I'm guessing, Clegane."

Sandor nodded. "Yes, that's right...And before you start. I don't want your gold." He smiled crookedly before continued. "I've heard about how you treat your men, you'd be a much better master than the ones I previously served."

Everybody was taken aback by that comment.

Robb finally found his voice. "Are you...saying you wish to join me, and my army?"

"Aye, I wish to swear my sword to your service." He looked around at the faces of the others. "I know none of you trust me, but rest assured. Give a task to carry out in the next battle and I'll do it."

A large man who had been sitting on Robb's right spoke up. "If you accept this man into your service your grace, I have a task for him in the next battle."

Robb turned to the man. "And what would that be, Lord Umber?"

"He's to lead the vanguard in our next battle."

Sandor smirked at this and accepted the task before formally swearing his sword to Robb's service.

Sansa watched all this unfold, smiling.

'_Let others say what they want about him.'_ She thought. _'I will always be grateful to him. Without him I would not be standing here...I'd probably still be trapped in King's Landing with the Lannisters.'_

Just then she heard another familiar voice crying out her name. She turned and her smile grew wider as she saw who it was. She hurried over to the new arrival.

"Mother!" She cried out, joy shining in her voice as they embraced tightly.

When they parted she saw her mother's great relief shining out from her eyes.

"I cannot believe it, you're safe too!"

Sansa nodded. "Yes mother, I'm here, I'm safe..." She then realized what her mother meant. "Who...What do you mean, who else is...?"

Catelyn smiled and, with Robb putting the meeting on hold, leaving his men to contemplate their strategies, led Sansa from the tent. Robb accompanied them, smiling joyfully. Finally she answered her.

"Arya made it too, not even two hours ago."

Sansa gasped; her sister was alive too? "A-Arya, she's here?"

Catelyn nodded. "Yes, now Sansa..."

"I know what you're going to say..." Sansa paused and then composed herself. "There won't be any trouble, mother, I'm just so glad she's safe...I really couldn't care what she says to me."

Smiling at that Catelyn led Sansa to her tent. As they arrived Catelyn took in Sansa's appearance.

"You're not so bad...You should've seen Arya." Catelyn stated. Sansa suppressed a laugh.

"I'm guessing she was filthy."

Catelyn nodded in confirmation. "Yes, well, hopefully she'll be cleaned up by now."

They continued walking as Catelyn told Sansa about Arya's injuries. Finally they arrived at the tent and Catelyn urged Sansa to go ahead.

"It's better you see each other alone first..." Catelyn trailed off but Sansa understood and entered the tent by herself.

When she entered she found Arya, just finishing getting dressed and attempting to lace up the boots she was wearing, despite her blindness. Sansa walked over to her sister, fighting not to tremble at the sight of her.

"Here, let me." She said as she took over lacing up the boots.

Arya's mouth turned down, Sansa guessed she was scowling. "I don't need any help I...Wait." She stopped scowling. "That voice, it can't be..."

"It's me, Arya," Sansa reassured her. Arya gasped.

"Sansa! You're alive!"

Sansa smiled and embraced her sister, fighting back the tears. "I am, you're the one I thought was dead. Where did you go, after what happened with...with father. You just disappeared."

"I...I escaped; I saw them kill father, but before I could do anything, Yoren, a man from the Night's Watch, he took me away. He cut my hair short; I was disguised as a boy, off to join the Night's Watch. That's how I got out."

Sansa was amazed at this. "So...What happened, what was supposed to happen?"

"Either I was to go to the Wall and to Jon, or when we passed Winterfell, Yoren would let me go there, but...We never made it that far..."

Sansa listened as Arya related her story; Yoren's death, their capture, the imprisonment at Harrenhal and finally her escape with Gendry and their long journey north until they finally reunited with Robb. As Sansa listened she was equal parts amazed, horrified and relieved. She had washed and cleaned herself up while listening to Arya and was now seated next to her sister.

"This Gendry, he's the one who brought you here?" She asked.

Arya nodded. "That's right; he's working at the forge just now. Armourer's apprentice." Arya paused and then asked. "How did you get here? Someone must've brought you here."

Sansa gulped nervously, she knew about Arya's aversion to Sandor. She couldn't lie though, she had to tell her. "It was...Sandor Clegane."

"The Hound?" Arya's voice was filled more with surprise than anger or disgust. "Wow, so what, has he betrayed the Lannisters or something?"  
Sansa smiled. "I believe he has, he just swore himself to Robb's service...Arya I know he..."

"If he proves himself loyal to Robb; then I'll think about forgiving him."

Sansa felt greatly relieved by that; however something was bothering her. She looked at her sister again and felt the tight clenching feeling in her throat.

"Arya...Your eyes." She whispered fearfully. "That explosion, how it maimed you...Mother said..."

Arya cut across Sansa. "She's right, it's not permanent. In fact my vision's been getting better every day."

Arya then seemed to realize something and reached up to the bandages.

"I'm supposed to take them off each day to see how they're recovering," she paused. "There will be some permanent damage; but I won't be completely blind.

With that she took the bandages off and Sansa smiled as she finally got to see her sister's eyes again.

She waited in an agony of suspense until Arya sighed.

"Well, is everything alright?" She asked.

Arya turned to her; Sansa noted there was something slightly odd about her eyes.

Arya then revealed, "I don't need the bandages anymore, I can see perfectly again...Out of my left eye. My right eye is completely blind. I...Those bandages were actually fresh but...I hoped..."

Sansa gasped, horrified by this. "Arya!"

However Arya shrugged nonchalantly. "It's as good as I could hope for. I better go and tell Gendry, I said I'd tell him."

Sansa nodded. Arya began to leave the tent. Before she did however Sansa called out to her.

"Wait Arya...I...I know we have never really...got along but...I want to try and..."

Arya smiled. "I know what you mean...Let's just put it behind us, please. We're back together again, that's all that matters."

Sansa nodded. "Also I've...I've realized something...I realize now I should never have been so hard on you. This is who you are and...I guess now I can accept that."

Arya smiled but it soon vanished as she looked carefully at her sister. Something just wasn't right.

Arya turned back and sat down in front of Sansa.

"Is there something wrong, something you haven't told me?" She asked.

Sansa let out a shaky breath and then, her voice choked, blurted out the truth.

"I killed someone Arya...I killed him."

She related the story of the young lordling she had killed, not leaving out a single detail. Suddenly, to Sansa's surprise Arya embraced her.

"Oh Sansa, I can't believe you had to go through that." Arya stepped back. "Don't worry, I understand."

"How can you possibly..." Realization then dawned. "Arya, you...?"

Arya nodded in confirmation before leaving the tent. Sansa was horrified by the revelation, but refused to dwell on it. She was safe and reunited with Robb, Arya and her mother. For now that was all that mattered.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	17. Catelyn IV

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**jau0062: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, well, there is more to come.  
magnus374: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, yeah, Sansa is back, but that won't be happening. There is no one they need that would require Sansa to be married off. The only possible allies they could still gain only have female heirs.  
HarryPotterLover1996: Well, more of the family will be returning, glad you enjoyed it.**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Catelyn**

Catelyn smiled as she listened in on her daughter's finally making peace with each other. Her happiness was slightly marred however by the admittance from both girls that they had killed someone. That thought still in her mind, she watched as Arya left the tent and headed to where that boy Gendry was. Catelyn quietly slipped into her tent to find Sansa still sitting there. She noticed that her daughter looked anxious.

"Sansa, what troubles you?" She asked; fearful of seeing her daughter in such a state.

Sansa looked up at her mother and contemplated before answering. "It's about Arya, mother; she...she doesn't need the bandages anymore but...Her right eye..."

Catelyn nodded sadly.

"I heard. I also heard her response, she seems...accepting of it at least." Catelyn paused and then added. "It doesn't seem like it going's to stop her from doing anything. We should be happy for that at least."

Sansa slowly nodded. "Yes I...I guess you're right."

Catelyn smiled. "Come, Robb and his army will be heading out to battle tomorrow; we best make the most of the rest of the day."

Sansa stood up.

"So soon? We only just got here; where is he...?" She stopped when she realized. "The Twins, he's going to exact revenge on the Freys."

Catelyn nodded. "Yes."

Together they left the tent; they spotted Arya coming towards them.

"Arya, I take it you've come to see Robb before the army leaves tomorrow too."

Arya smiled. "That's right; just wish I could help them in some way."

Sansa bit her lip and replied. "You shouldn't Arya, it's too dangerous. This is a full battle, not like anything even you've seen before."

Arya sighed.

"I guess. I guess you're right. Let's go."

They agreed and spent the night in each other's company with Robb. Catching up and revelling in their reunion.

The following morning the three Stark females went to the edge of the camp where the army was positioned.

The army was in prefect formation and was beginning to advance. As agreed, Sandor Clegane was leading the Vanguard. The men in ranks, slowly but steadily, made progress as they left camp for the Twins, just on the horizon. They could see Robb, fully armoured, his face grim before he set his helmet in place. Sansa then noticed something.

"Arya, I thought your friend Gendry would be with them?" She questioned. "I know he's an armourer's apprentice but surely he would know how to fight?"

Arya sighed. "Gendry does know how to use a sword but...He claims he's not skilled enough to help Robb in this battle." She paused and then added. "Not stopping him from trying to improve though." Arya smirked at that. Finally the army left and Catelyn led the girls back to the tent to await news. As they did she then heard the girls talking again, what she heard caught her attention.

"Arya." Sansa paused and then asked. "That sword you have...I was wondering, your dancing lessons in King's Landing weren't...dancing lessons at all were they?"

She heard Arya laugh before replying. "Actually they were...in a way. I was being taught Water Dancing. It's a form of fighting, much smoother and more dangerous than the way knight's fight."

"So, Syrio Forel was a Water Dancer?"

"More than that," Arya replied. "He was the First Sword of Braavos...I don't even know if he's still alive." Silence followed as they finally arrived at the tent.

They sat restlessly as they waited for news. At that moment however a soft voice broke the silence.

"My lady."

They looked up and Catelyn smiled as Jeyne walked in. She stood up and went to greet the young queen.

"Your Grace. What an unexpected surprise." She said cheerfully.

Jeyne smiled back and replied. "I am happy for you my lady. Your daughters have been returned to you. I hoped to meet them, properly."

Catelyn nodded and soon they were all seated she made the introductions.

"Sansa, Arya, this is Jeyne, Jeyne Westerling."

Sansa smiled warmly. "A pleasure."

"How did you end up here?" Arya asked, skipping the formalities.

Jeyne smiled and then explained, surprising both girls. "I am married to your older brother, King Robb."

They gasped and Sansa then stammered. "So...So you're...You're the Queen of the North then."

Jeyne smiled. "Yes, but please, I've wanted to meet you for so long, ever since Robb told me about all of you. So I'd rather you speak to me as you normally would to each other."

Catelyn had been slightly tense at first but then relaxed. It seemed that they would all get along very well together.

It was then a messenger arrived to see them.

"What news of the battle?" Catelyn asked.

"It has gone well, my lady; we are already in possession of one of the two castles. The Frey's have been forced to retreat to the second one; we are besieging them now."

Catelyn heard the girls let out a sigh of relief and then Jeyne spoke.

"Half a victory for now!" She exclaimed. Catelyn agreed with her.

She then added. "Hopefully, before long, it will be a complete victory."

The messenger left and they resumed waiting. Passing the time by relating their stories of how they came to the camp to Jeyne. In turn Jeyne informed them of what had occurred before they arrived, including the trial and its aftermath.

It felt like an eternity before the good news was finally delivered, that the army was victorious, the Twins had fallen to the Northern army and they had now taken over both castles. Many Frey warriors had died; including several of the conspirators of the Red Wedding. Two of them, Lord Walder Frey being one, had even been captured alive. With a small escort to deal with any stragglers, Catelyn, Jeyne, Sansa and Arya all made their way to the southern castle of the Twins, along with everyone else in the camp. When they arrived Robb had already beheaded the other captured conspirator. That just left Lord Walder Frey. The aged lord glared sullenly at Robb as Robb stood over him, sword in hand.

"Pretty speech you made before you killed him," Lord Frey remarked bitterly.

Robb's face didn't even flicker, it was a stony mask. "I stand by my word. With your death, the last person who plotted to have me killed, that is in my reach, will be dead."

He paused before continuing. "I have no wish for needless bloodshed. Those who wish to re-join may, those who do not, have leave to flee. Those who wish me ill, be aware that you will only be serving yourselves unto death. I will not harm any innocents, the women and children will be spared from any atrocity."

With those words Robb stepped forwards and, once Lord Frey was pushed down onto the block, carried out the execution. Following that Robb saw to the removal and interment of the body before seeing that his declaration was carried out.

A full day passed since the attack and now the northern army had fully settled the Twins. A fair few had remained to join the army while most of the survivors fled, taking their families with them. On Robb's stern instruction no woman or child was harmed and now there was a moment of peace. Catelyn had just finished breaking her fast when Sansa came rushing into the chamber Catelyn had been given for the duration of their stay.

"Mother, quick, you must come to the north gate." She cried out breathlessly.

Startled by this Catelyn followed her daughter.

The drawbridge was down and a small crowd had gathered; including Robb, Jeyne, Arya and Gendry. Catelyn hurried over to Robb.

"Robb, what is going on?" She asked, confused.

Robb smiled and gestured. "Look."

She turned and froze at what she saw. Walking across the drawbridge, entering the castle was a small group of people. One she recognized right away as Hodor, the Winterfell stable boy. There was a woman with him, dressed in patched ragged clothing. Catelyn guessed this was the Wildling woman Robb had told her about. Also with them was a young boy of around thirteen clad in green clothing. His height and build made it clear he was a Crannogman from Greywater Watch. She also recognized the two Direwolves of her youngest sons. Then she saw him and her heart skipped a beat; riding on Shaggydog's back was Rickon. Her youngest child, she could scarcely believe it, the news from Winterfell had been false? Rickon wasn't dead! This sparked a hope in Catelyn, if Rickon was alive, then surely Bran was too.

The moment he saw his mother, Rickon slid down from Shaggydog's back and rushed to her. Catelyn caught him as he threw his arms around her; Catelyn fought back tears as she revelled in the joy of being reunited with another of her children. Robb and the rest of the family all gathered round too. Finally Rickon's travelling companions came up to them.

"Rickon." Catelyn breathed happily. "The Gods truly are merciful." She then looked to his companions. "I cannot thank you enough."

"Just doing the duty we owe to our Prince, m'lady." The Wildling woman declared. Catelyn searched her memory and remembered Robb had mentioned her name: Osha.

"Hodor," the gentle giant replied, although Catelyn noticed he had some reserve about him.

Finally the young Crannogman stepped forwards. "Your Grace, my lady. I am Jojen Reed; son of Howland Reed of Greywater Watch. No doubt you are curious about our arrival, the story is long."

Robb nodded. "You can tell us inside, but...I recall the messages I heard from Winterfell, I must ask...Where is Bran?"

Jojen bowed his head and sighed. "The Prince was with us, but we were attacked on the way by men loyal to House Bolton. My sister, Meera, she was carrying Prince Bran on her back, to allow Hodor to recover. I could tell we were in danger so I told her to run."

He paused and then straightened up.

"She did so, she took Prince Bran away from that fight and to safety, but we were unable to find them."

Catelyn felt her hope disappear. What chance did Bran have out in the wild north; not being able to walk amidst such hostile surroundings was nothing short of a death sentence.

Jojen however seemed to sense her unease.

"I wouldn't fear, my lady. I'm sure Prince Bran is safe." He soothed her. "My sister will ensure it; Meera is an expert hunter and tracker. I left a trail that only she would know the significance of. They'll find their way here, I promise."

Catelyn nodded slowly, her hope returning slightly. If Jojen's sister really was as capable as he claimed then she would hold onto that hope. Therefore it was decided that, while recovering and before planning their next move, they would wait for Bran.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	18. Bran V

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**Banana101: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, well, here it is :)  
magnus374: Thanks, well; here's the next chapter.  
sakura2113: Thanks, glad you are enjoying it.  
HarryPotterLover1996: Yup, Bran's the only one still missing; well, read on and enjoy :)**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Bran**

Now back out in the open, Bran had a better idea of the amount of time that had passed. It had been two days since the escape from Dreadfort. Five since Meera had been attacked. Bran noticed that her bruises had become less swollen and the red had faded to a bluish-purple. One particularly ugly one had formed around her right eye. The cut on her lip had fully healed but left a crust of dried blood. Bran also noticed the injuries had affected Meera's strength; she staggered a lot more while carrying him and tired more easily.

Bran however had another concern. He had been too afraid to put it into words, but he feared strongly that the Dreadfort men who had raped her had put a bastard in her. The thought made Bran's blood boil and he wondered what she would do. If given the option would she take Moon Tea? Or would she refuse? He couldn't see any reason for her to refuse but still he didn't know for certain. He also felt different around her; his admiration for her strength had increased the feelings he already felt. Her injuries had enraged him but now saddened him, to see her like that.

"Bran," her voice sounded hoarse now. Had he not noticed that before, unsurprising after all the screaming? "Is everything alright? You've been very quiet."

"E-everything's fine, Meera," he stammered. "I just...I was worried about you."

He could see the profile of her face and noticed the small smile on her lips. "You don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine; I think...I think we're nearly there."

Her voice had filled with hope suddenly. Bran shifted his eyes ahead, and his heart leapt at the sight!

He could see the two castles collectively known as the Twins, hanging from the battles, flapping in the breeze was the Stark banner. Seeing this seemed to give new energy to Meera, despite her earlier exhaustion, she walked onwards; heading for the castle.

Bran smiled. "Meera, don't strain yourself. It's getting late and we don't have to reach the Twins today."

She slowed down and glanced over her shoulder.

"Are you sure? I mean, it looks like your brother is there." She clarified.

Bran nodded.

"I'm sure. If we stop and rest now, we can continue tomorrow and arrive then." He paused and then added. "It's just another day, it gives you time to relax."

Meera sighed and then agreed. They set themselves up for the night and settled into sleep. They spent their nights sleeping under the same blanket, holding each other for warmth. However, due to the trauma she had endured, Meera suffered from haunting nightmares of the past events. As such, Bran did his best to comfort her, something that allowed him, even if in just a small way, to show the affection he felt for her. That night was mostly uneventful, but it was during the moments of quiet that Bran heard the not so distant sound of howling. He smiled as he recognized those howls, it was Summer. Soon they would be reunited with him and the others and, if the banners were true, Robb and his mother too.

The following morning they gathered up everything they would need and Meera pulled him onto her back again. They continued to walk onwards. Meera's motions seemed more automatic now, her mind was elsewhere. Bran felt concerned by this; wondering what was on her thoughts. He got his answer however as Meera then turned her head.

"Bran...I've been meaning to ask." She paused. "I do appreciate you trying to help me but...But why? Why do you show so much concern? More than I would've thought possible."

Bran fumbled for a response, her query had caught him off guard. "What- What do you mean?"

"Most people, if they saw my injuries after that...incident, would've turned away. But you made sure I was all right. Then at night, you help me get through the nightmares… it's, it's nice but...unexpected. I was wondering why?"

Bran felt his mouth go dry, he thought desperately for an answer. "Meera I...The reason I did all that was because...Because..." _'Because I love you,'_ he thought to himself but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Instead he said... "I'm sorry, I don't know why."

Meera sighed and nodded and they lapsed back into a companionable silence.

Finally Meera spoke again, "I'm sorry, I know it was a strange a question and I probably sounded ungrateful. I was just curious."

Bran smiled and nodded. "I understand," he reassured her.

Visibly relieved, Meera continued on her path until finally they arrived at the gate of the northern castle of the Twins. The gate had opened as they arrived; they had been seen from the watchtowers. It seemed that they were expected. Hesitating only briefly Meera proceeded into the castle.

They walked into the courtyard and finally, despite all her efforts, Meera's strength deserted her. Her legs gave way and she fell to her knees. Bran was so focused on her, worried about her well-being that she barely heard the varying footsteps approaching; heavy armoured boots, leather boots and feminine slippers, all swiftly crossing the ground towards them.

It was only when they stopped that he looked up. He felt as if all the breath had left his body. He blinked back tears as he saw the faces of those he once thought lost to him. Osha, Hodor and Jojen had been the first to approach; Jojen appeared apprehensive as he noted his sister's appearance and injuries. Just behind them however was his family. He spotted Rickon right away; he appeared to have been halfway through getting his hair cut when news must've arrived. Standing just behind him were the people he never thought he'd see again. Both his sisters, Robb and his mother. They all looked at him as if they could scarcely believe their eyes. Remembering the helmet Bran pulled it off and dropped it so they could see him properly. More stunned silence, apart from Meera trying to catch her breath, followed. Finally he saw Arya's smile which was slowly, one by one reflected on the others. His mother stepped forwards, smiling, her eyes shining as the last member of her fractured family was returned to her.

Before anyone could say anything Bran turned to Hodor.

"Hodor, put me over there." He said, gesturing to the small stone steps to the left. Hodor did so and Meera, now free of her burden, stood up shakily. Now happy that he wasn't causing her further distress, Bran returned the smiles of his family as they gathered around him. His mother and sisters all hugged him while Robb clapped his shoulder. Rickon kept asking so many questions Bran couldn't keep up. In the end it was his mother who settled everything down.

Catelyn smiled at her second son. "Thank the Gods you're safe Bran. But..." She trailed off.

Bran followed her gaze and saw she was looking at Meera, the bruises and some of the other injuries that were visible. Jojen was stood next to his sister, concern for her wellbeing evident on his face.

"What happened to the two of you?" Cat asked with an air of incredulousness.

Bran sighed. "It's a really long story, but...we were caught, by Bolton soldiers."

Catelyn gasped in horror. "But...Jojen said you escaped?"

"We escaped the first group." Bran confirmed. "There was a second group, they caught us in a trap and...Took us to Dreadfort and...Ramsay."

Bran barely whispered the last word, as if afraid to utter the name out loud. He shuddered and then continued.

"They threw me in the dungeon but...Meera, they; Gods..."

Catelyn and Bran both shifted their gaze to Meera again and noted her haunted expression as she spoke to Jojen.

Catelyn turned back to her son. "Bran, was she...violated?"

Bran nodded. "Several times." He managed to choke out. "They beat her too."

Just saying it caused the memories to flood back; the pain, the rage, the guilt he had felt. How he wished things could have been different.

When he finally recovered, and looked up, he saw his mother observing him carefully. There was a sadness in her eyes and something else too. He couldn't quite place it.

Finally she turned and called for the Maester. The old man came up, but the moment he tried to touch Meera and try to help he to her feet; she jerked away, her eyes wide. Bran sighed; it was clear now that her suffering had made her extremely wary of all males, well, all but two males. It seemed that he and Jojen were the only ones she trusted now.

"Meera," he called out. "It's alright, he just wants to help. Look carefully."

She carefully studied the man, and suddenly recognition dawned across her weary features. Her shoulders relaxed, and she seemed faintly embarrassed.

Jojen noted the exchange and then spoke up, "If it makes it easier for you, I could come along Meera?"

She nodded and so the Reed siblings left the courtyard, along with the Maester. Bran watched them go, feeling his heart break for Meera. For the obvious horror that she endured, something no one should have to suffer. Following instructions from his mother, Bran was lifted up by Hodor and they headed through the castle to the chamber that had been set aside for him.

As they walked Catelyn sighed. "Meera is in good hands Bran, don't worry about that." She reassured him.

He nodded. "So, what's going to happen now?"

She smiled. "Well, after the victory we earned here; Robb's men have been making all the arrangements...There's going to be a celebration feast. Everybody will be there. We just need to get ready."

Bran smiled and nodded. His mind was still on Meera however, would be present too? How would she fare at such an event?

"Mother, I don't know I...I know I should make an appearance, it's my duty as Prince. But...about Meera, she..." He paused and then finally found the words. "She only seems to be comfortable around Jojen and myself. I was thinking maybe she could sit between Jojen and I at the feast? That is, if she feels up to it."

His mother agreed wholeheartedly with him; knowing that Meera would be uncomfortable surrounded by people unfamiliar to her. So she left to inform the others of the arrangements while Bran, with Hodor's help, got ready for the feast.

* * *

End of chapter; hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	19. Sansa V

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**HannahBanana94: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it :)  
HarryPotterLover1996: Yup, that's them all together again; glad you enjoyed it :)  
magnus374: Yup, that's them reunited; yeah, Meera had a really tough time of it, but she had the strength and determination, and most importantly, something to protect, that pulled her through.  
**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to Geroge R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Sansa**

Sansa smiled as she entered the great hall; it was nothing compared to Winterfell's, but the Twins great hall was at least large enough for all of them. She noted her mother and Robb were already seated in their places, along with Jeyne. They were talking together, although despite the joyful occasion Sansa noticed their serious expressions. As Robb's banner men, among others, began to enter Sansa stepped up to the high table. Robb, her mother and Jeyne turned to face her, all smiling. Although their seriousness still remained visible in their eyes.

"Sansa, there you are," her mother said gladly. "Come, sit."

Sansa sat down next to Catelyn; she looked around. "Where are Arya, Bran and Rickon?" She asked, noticing their absence.

They both shared a glance before Robb answered. "Gods know where Arya is. She was supposed to already be here. But you know what she's like."

Sansa smiled and nodded, Catelyn then continued. "Rickon will be here soon. Bran has probably only just finished with the Maester. He'll be getting ready, then Hodor will bring him down."  
Sansa nodded; pondering where Arya could be. From the sound of things her sister had gone wandering off again. However those thoughts were momentarily pushed out of her head as Sandor entered. She had heard about his successful leadership of the vanguard. Sansa also noted the bandage around his right arm; the injury he had received during the battle.

Eager as she was to talk to Sandor; she knew she had her duties to perform. Still when his eyes met hers she smiled warmly. He gave a slight, crooked smile back and walked to a seat amongst the banner men; the two on either side of him had fought with him in the battle. They laughed and clapped his shoulders, he merely grunted in response. Rickon also arrived and sat at the top table; the wildling woman entered the hall with him but Sansa lost sight of her amongst the crowd that started to flood into the hall. It was then; finally, that Arya arrived. Shockingly, she was wearing a dress! Sansa was so surprised she initially didn't realize Arya had company. When she did notice; she froze. Accompanying her sister was that boy who had brought her back to them, Gendry.

'_I hope Arya doesn't mean for him to sit with us?'_ She thought frantically. _'True he did return her, but everybody knows he's a bastard, letting him sit with us will probably give the wrong message to the others.'_

It was only after she began that train of thought that she realized she was being absurd. Gendry had saved her sister's life; if Arya wanted him to sit with them, why couldn't he? He had done more than enough to deserve a place with them. Sure enough Arya sat down next to Sansa; Gendry sat on Arya's other side, between her and Rickon.

Sansa smiled as she turned to her sister.

"So Arya, I…I'm actually surprised, I mean you…" She faltered, trying to think what to say, regarding Arya's dress.

Arya seemed to notice this and laughed. "What? It's a special occasion! Don't get used to it… This is probably the only time I'm going to do it."

Sansa nodded; quietly laughing herself when she heard her mother.

"Bran, please, relax."

Sansa turned, surprised; she hadn't even realized he had arrived. She saw him sitting on Robb's right; there was an empty chair next to him and in the next seat was the young Crannogman; Jojen Reed. Bran seemed anxious. However Catelyn's words seemed to calm him down.

"Mother," she caught Catelyn's attention.

Her mother turned to face her. "Is everything alright?"

"What is wrong with Bran? He seems…troubled?"

Catelyn sighed and cast a look back over at Bran, who was now engaged in conversation with Jojen.

"He's well, Sansa." Catelyn said finally. "He was just worried about Meera."

Realization hit and Sansa nodded. Jojen's sister, the girl who had brought Bran to safety. Sansa suppressed a shudder as she remembered hearing what happened to the poor girl; she remembered the King's Landing Riot; where the same thing had nearly happened to her.

The feast had started and was underway for some time and, due to it being the first proper meal in a long time, Sansa had a difficult time remembering her courtesies. Arya wasn't so concerned; talking to Gendry with mouthfuls of food. In a way Sansa envied her sister for not having any concern for appearance. Sansa was in fact surprised that her sister hadn't spilled any food down her dress yet.

'_Knowing Arya though, it's only a matter of time.'_ She thought, doing her best to hide a smile.

She turned her head and noted that Meera had arrived; although she looked extremely uncomfortable. Bran was smiling and talking to her; she gave a light smile and replied; looking somewhat relieved. Sansa's gaze swept over the noisy crowd; all eating, drinking and laughing. At that moment Sandor looked up and locked eyes with her. Sansa felt her cheeks heat up and her throat grow dry. She saw him smirk and quickly looked away.

'_What's wrong with me?'_ She thought. _'Why did I…I guess I...Do I really have affections for him?'_

When she dared to look again Sandor had looked away. Breathing a sigh, either of relief or disappointment she didn't know. Finally; after chatting aimlessly with Arya; reminding her sister not to talk with her mouth full in the process, Sansa noted a few people leaving the hall; those with poor heads for drink, or those who were exhausted already from the festivities.

Sansa turned and saw Meera standing up. She saw her talk to Bran, but she couldn't hear what they were saying; nor could she see the expression on Bran's face. However her mother could and Sansa saw what looked like realization cross Catelyn's face. Meera then left and Sansa got her mother's attention.

"Mother, what's wrong? You look like you just saw something?" She asked, her voice concerned.

Catelyn however smiled and shook her head. "It's nothing to worry about Sansa; it's just… a suspicion; I'll tell you about it, if it happens to be true, that is."

That piqued Sansa's curiosity but she decided it would be better not to ask. It sounded private; Sansa was suddenly aware just how tired she felt.

"I'm exhausted mother; it has been a long day." She remarked at last; "I think I will go to bed."  
Catelyn nodded in acceptance. "Yes, you are right; it has been a long day. I will see you tomorrow, Sansa."

So Sansa stood up and left; just as she stood she saw Sandor exiting the hall too. She made her way through the crowd and left the hall; just in time as she saw him at the end of the passage. She hurried as quickly as she could to reach him.

"Sandor," she called out as she approached.

He turned and gave that crooked smile again. "Looks like you can't look at me again…Although, for different reasons from your reaction in there."

Sansa felt her face heat up again and looked desperately to change the subject.

Finally she found it as she lowered her head and saw his bandaged arm again.

"I hope it's not as bad as it looks." She said finally as she came closer and examined it.

He grunted and shook his head. "It's fine; nothing to worry about. Also no excuse to change the subject."

Sansa however continued. "What happened exactly?"

He sighed and stepped back; so she would have to look him in the face. He gave a wry smirk and then shrugged.

"Some squire got lucky; but his aim was poor, couldn't even make a decent job of it." Sandor barked a laugh, "in the end I walked away alive and he didn't."

Sansa nodded slowly before whispering. "I'm glad."

However she wasn't as quiet as she thought, and he heard. "Oh, how so?"

Realizing she had been heard Sansa blushed furiously. Sandor laughed again.

"Well, I'll leave it." He said finally. "Good night, little bird."

Then, surprising him and even herself Sansa stepped closer; stood on her toes and delicately kissed his cheek. His burned cheek. Realizing what she had done Sansa was certain her face was now the same colour as her hair.

"Y-yes, good night." She stammered before turning and heading to her chambers.

She prepared herself for bed; she then stood and looked out the window.

"I can't believe I did that." She whispered.

Her thoughts still dwelling on Sandor however she headed to bed, wondering if she had done the right thing.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	20. Arya V

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**HarryPotterLover1996: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it, well, that's just a hint of things to come :)  
magnus374: Yup, she sure has and yeah, it's still there; but she's willing to bend it a little of course :)**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Arya**

Arya fidgeted uncomfortably but managed to smile. She really hated dresses; but this was a special occasion, all her family was back together and Robb's army had won a great victory. She would be expected to dress up and, just this once, she would concede to that wish. Her movements were slightly awkward as she was still getting used to only having one eye to see with. However she shrugged it off and walked, carefully out of the room. The fact she had not worn a dress in so long also made movement difficult, more restrictive.

'_I've become so used to the freedom I had that I've forgotten how carefully I need to walk in this.'_ She thought to herself wryly.

Shaking her head she left the room that had been set aside for her. She began to walk to the great hall where the feast would be underway, but then stopped. She had a different idea; a small smirk played on her face as she turned and headed to another room in the castle. True she was expected at the feast and soon, but she had other ideas. Besides, there was someone she wanted to see first. So it was; she found herself approaching Gendry's room, just as he was coming out. Like her, he was dressed in the finest clothes available to him.

He stopped in his tracks, surprised when he saw her. His face showed stunned surprise; most likely due to her 'unusual' attire. She almost laughed due to his expression as he walked over.

"Arya, wh-what, why...Uh..." He stammered, practically tripping over his own tongue.

She couldn't hold it back any longer and laughed. "Yeah, I know, surprised?" She remarked.

Gendry recovered somewhat, and shot her a smirk. "That you're wearing a dress? Or that you're here, rather than at the feast?"

"Both." She responded without hesitation.

Gendry sighed. "Fine, yes, I am surprised at both."

She shook her head and explained. "Don't think I'll be doing this often, it's just because this is a special occasion, alright." He nodded and she continued. "As for the feast..."

She trailed off as she pondered her next words. Gendry waited expectantly.

"You didn't think you were getting out of escorting me to the feast?" She finally said, playfully.

Gendry laughed. "Of course not, m'lady."

Arya smacked his chest. "What have I said about that, you stupid bull?"

"Oh, so you're allowed to call me that, but I can't call you 'm'lady'." He retorted before shrugging. With that they began to walk down to the main hall for the feast.

As they walked Arya smiled as she glanced over at Gendry. "Guess this'll be the first time you've attended a proper feast?" She questioned him, he nodded in return. "Well, just wait till you see it, it's pretty messy, I'll say that, but the food should be good; especially after everything we've had to put up with."

He sighed longingly. "Proper food definitely sounds great. At least you'll get to see things without being crowded, up at the high table."

Arya turned to look at him. "So will you, you'll be sitting next to me."

Gendry suddenly stopped walking and Arya turned back to face him.

He shook his head. "Arya no, I won't be sitting up there with you. I'm a bastard remember, my place..."

"Who cares about 'your place'?" She snapped. "Let them think what they want, I'll just remind them that you're the one who got me here; bastard or not, you've earned the right to sit with us."

Gendry sighed and gave in, he knew arguing with Arya was impossible. Therefore they resumed their walk and soon entered the main hall. Arya noted that the hall was filling up; already half the seats seemed to be full. She noted her family sitting at the high table, only Bran was missing. However as she took her seat she saw Hodor enter with Bran. Gendry sat next to her, with Rickon on his other side. She noticed Gendry looked rather uncomfortable and awkward. Rickon stared up at Gendry, but his expression was unreadable. At that moment Sansa turned to Arya and smiled.

"So Arya, I…I'm actually surprised, I mean you…"

Arya laughs at her sister's nervous attempt to comment on her clothes and replies truthfully.

"What? It's a special occasion! Don't get used to it… This is probably the only time I'm going to do it." Sansa laughed in response and they both relaxed. At that moment Arya heard her mother talking to Bran.

"Bran, please, relax."

Sansa turned and Arya leaned forwards to see past her. She saw Bran's agitation, which was quickly masked by an air of composure. She also noted their other guest, the Crannogman, Jojen Reed, as well as the empty chair between him and Bran, probably for Jojen's sister Meera? Sansa began to talk to their mother, so Arya turned back to Gendry. She noted that Rickon seemed to be asking him several questions; mostly about Gendry's past. Gendry was answering as honestly as he could, but one question caught her attention.

"What about your mother and father?"

Arya listened intently; she had only heard Gendry mentioned his mother briefly; and say very little about his unknown father. She often wondered if he had told her the truth, or at least, what he knew of the truth. If however he told Rickon something different, then for whatever reason, she would know he was lying. However he told Rickon the exact same thing he had told her, with only one new addition. Something which he hadn't known when he told her.

"Whoever my father was, he must've been important." He explained. "Why else would the Gold Cloaks have been hunting me?"

Rickon seemed amazed at this; but soon they were all distracted by the feast starting; the food arrived and Arya tore into it at once. Grabbing a leg from a still steaming chicken and without any second thought, took a large bite out of it.

Gendry laughed when he saw her. "Honestly, Arya," he chided her playfully. "Slow down, you'll make yourself sick."

She pouted at him and swallowed the mouthful she had. "Surprised you aren't doing the same, when's the last time you ate proper food?"

Gendry shrugged and replied as she ate some more. "Fair enough, but I'm more used to it I guess. After all, I'm just a simple base born boy who was once an armourer's apprentice; not a highborn."

Arya made a face and continued eating; she noted out the corner of her eye that Meera Reed had finally arrived and was seated between Bran and Jojen. A short while later Sansa turned to face her.

"Arya," she began, her voice uncertain, as if she wasn't sure how to begin.

Arya turned to her sister. "Wha'?" She replied thickly.

Sansa sighed. "Don't talk with your mouth full. It's rude and it makes it hard to understand what you are saying."

Arya swallowed and then tried again. "What's wrong?"

Sansa paused for a moment before leaning in closer and asking. "How did you convince Gendry to sit with us?" She glanced up to see if he had heard before continuing. "I mean, he seems to care more about his status than you. I thought he would've refused?"

Arya nodded. "He did at first; but I pointed out that without him, I wouldn't have got here. He practically saved my life and so...He earned his right to sit at the high table with us."

Sansa nodded slowly. "I see."

"Why?"

Sansa's eyes darted out to somewhere amongst the throng of people before looking back at her sister and replying, a bit to quickly for Arya's liking. "No reason."

Arya smirked. "What are you hiding, Sansa?"

"Nothing." she replied shaking her head.

Arya shrugged. "Alright then, I'll figure it out eventually."

Sansa did not reply and instead turned her attention back to the hall as Meera, along with a few others began to leave.

Not too long after that, Sansa left; Arya sighed and looked around. Everybody had definitely finished eating; all that seemed to be going on now was drinking games between the banner men and loud conversation. Arya began to feel groggy and thought maybe she should leave and head for bed too. It was then Rickon tried to stifle or hide a yawn behind his hand, unobtrusively.

"Time for bed, Rickon," Catelyn remarked, undeceived.

Rickon pouted but accepted once Arya declared she was tired and would take him when she left. So, guiding her younger brother out, she left the hall. Before she did she glanced back and smiled when she saw Gendry talking and laughing with Robb. Still smiling she left, happy in the knowledge that now, after so long, her family was together again.

* * *

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, three more chapters to go.


	21. Catelyn V

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**HarryPotterLover1996: Yup :), here's the next chapter :)  
MrUnclePeanuts: Thanks, glad you are enjoying it; sadly you've come in towards the end of the story, but don't worry, there will be sequels.  
magnus374: Thanks, glad you liked it :)  
Baccan: No probs, glad you enjoyed it.  
123a456e: Thanks, glad you really enjoyed it; Jon is at the Wall, where else, it even says it in the story.**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to Geroge R.R. Martin.

* * *

**Catelyn**

Catelyn smiled as she sat at the high table. Her family was reunited and stronger than ever. They had avenged themselves on the Frey's; now the only traitors left were Bolton and the Ironborn. However, behind all the happiness was worry; there was still more fighting to come, still a risk of losing everything, everyone. She turned to Robb and Jeyne; who sat next to her.

"Robb," she said softly; both King and Queen of the North turned to face her. "I feel, disquiet, like something terrible, might be waiting for us in the North."

Robb nodded. "I feel it too mother, but…" He smiled softly, placing his hand on top of Jeyne's. "Please, for tonight at least, let us enjoy our happiness and forget about future troubles."

Catelyn smiled and nodded. "You are right; this is a night for joy. The fears for the future will keep for tomorrow."

As she said that Catelyn noticed Sansa approaching the table. She did her best to push her worries to the back of her mind, and greeted her daughter.

"Sansa, there you are. Come, sit." She said happily.

Sansa smiled and took her seat. Cat watched as her daughter looked around and then asked for the whereabouts of the rest of the family. Catelyn answered her honestly, noting that, despite expectations, Arya wasn't here yet. As they sat more people came in, amongst them was Rickon who took his seat and then finally, Arya arrived, with that boy, Gendry.

Catelyn watched as Arya took her seat and then Gendry sat next to her. Cat sighed; typical of Arya; not to care about propriety and let a baseborn boy sit with them.

'_Although I must admit, he has shown more courage than most.'_ She thought to herself. _'Without him, I would never have been reunited with Arya. I suppose I can accept him here...'_

All the same, despite her thoughts, she was uncomfortable at the notion of letting a bastard sit with them. Not only might it send the wrong message to others; but it also brought up uncomfortable memories for her. Mostly the discomfort came from her remembering Jon Snow. She did her best to push her discomfort aside and listened to the conversations going on around her. She smiled at Sansa and Arya, the pair talking about Arya's surprising choice of attire. She also noticed that Bran had arrived and was fidgeting before he turned to speak to Jojen Reed.

"Where's Meera?" He asked, noticeably concerned.

Jojen sighed. "We finished with the Maester and were shown to our chambers. Meera is still there as far as I know. She told me to come down without her."

"Do you think she'll come down to the feast, I mean she…?"

Catelyn smiled at how caring Bran was being; showing such concern for the girl who had suffered so much to reunite him with his family.

She leaned over and spoke reassuringly. "Bran, please, relax."

Bran turned to her and slowly nodded and exhaled before calming down and turning back to talk to Jojen.

It was then Sansa caught her attention, asking about Bran.

"He's alright, Sansa." She reassured her daughter. "He's just worried about Meera."

Sansa nodded and shuddered; Catelyn wondered what was troubling her. However the look in Sansa's eyes made her realize that asking would not be a wise decision, so she didn't say anything. The feast then started and Catelyn noted, despite them all having faced hardships and a lack of proper meals, Arya was the only one of her children who tore into the food, with no concern for manners. She suppressed a smile and fought back a laugh. Catelyn was aware of movement to her right and turned her head. Meera Reed had arrived and sat down between her brother and Bran. Bran's expression brightened considerably as Meera sat down.

"Are you alright?" He asked; his concern visible again.

Meera smiled lightly. "I'm fine, Bran." She reassured him.

Bran noticed, Catelyn too, that she was uncomfortable. Bran pointed this out and Meera sighed.

"It's nothing; I'm just…there are just so many people and, after what happened I…" She paused and then shifted slightly. "Plus, I'm not exactly comfortable in a dress."

Catelyn smiled at that, Bran laughed softly before replying. "Arya's the same, I think you and her would get along really well." That brought a genuinely happy smile to Meera's face.

As the feast continued Catelyn noticed Bran's attention was almost exclusively on Meera. He constantly considered her wellbeing; ensuring the servers stopped to offer her something fresh from the kitchens, and that her cup was kept full. There was something in Bran's soft blue eyes that Catelyn recognized, but couldn't quite place…

Meera then turned to face him, and Bran's eyes quickly flicked down to his plate, his cheeks going red. They spoke some more before Meera stood up and left; clearly unable to take much more of the noisy hall. Catelyn could not blame her. As Meera left, Cat watched Bran's expression as he watched her leave and smiled.

'_It's sweet of him to be so concerned for her. He…'_ Her thoughts trailed off as her eyes widened. _'It cannot be, surely not…Bran, could he truly…?'_

Cat then found herself caught in Sansa's careful observation. Her daughter was curious about her preoccupation with Bran and asked about it. With a soft squeeze to Sansa's hand, Catelyn reassured her that all was well. Sansa then stood up and smiled softly.

"I'm exhausted mother; it has been a long day." She remarked at last; "I think I will go to bed."

Catelyn nodded in acceptance. "Yes, you are right. It has been a long day. I will see you tomorrow, Sansa."

With that Sansa left and Catelyn was left to quietly watch the other members of her family. They were engaged in small talk while the feast began steadily dwindle in numbers. Cat noticed Rickon trying to hide a yawn, she shook her head at her youngest.

"Time for bed, Rickon." He pouted and looked ready to complain, but Arya spoke up before he could.

"Hey, I'm pretty tired too," she stated. "C'mon Rickon, I'll go if you do." Rickon smiled and accepted, and they both left the hall. Catelyn sighed and turned back to Bran, she noted that he seemed distracted by his thoughts. Catelyn was still surprised by what she had seen. She would need to talk to him, to confirm if her suspicions indeed held any truth. Maybe even speak to Meera… her reaction to such a confrontation may reveal more than she needs. However that would be for another time.

Bran surprised Cat by staying on after the feast with Robb, speaking with lords and banner men alike. He continued attending to his duties as a Prince until finally, sometime later; Hodor came to take him to his chambers.

Catelyn left the hall too, heading for her own chambers. Her thoughts from before the feast returned to her, along with a new thought. True, there were still hardships ahead, but the only thing that mattered now, that her family were back together and safe. That was good enough for her.

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End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	22. Bran VI

**Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions**

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**magnus374: Yup, glad you enjoyed it; that's exactly the point of course :)  
Baccan: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it :)**

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

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**Bran**

"There seems to be no ill effects," the Maester said finally. "Your only injury is that wound..." He carefully examined the small scar from the whip welt Bran had received in Dreadfort.

"Yes, it's healed up well and there will be no further risk. I say you are quite well."

Bran nodded. "Thank you, Maester. Hodor?" Hodor bustled in and lifted Bran up, taking him through to the chambers that had been set aside for him. With Hodor's help he was able to get changed into fresh clothes. The finest ones available, and Hodor took him down to the great hall. On the way down Bran remained silent; his thoughts engaged elsewhere.

_'She kept things together for so long on the way here.'_ He thought sadly. _'But maybe it was just too much for Meera. What is she going to do now?'_

Bran desperately wanted to have Hodor stop and check up on her, but at the same time he wanted to be with his family. So he said nothing and let Hodor take him to the main hall. Maybe, if she felt up to it, he would see Meera there.

_'Would she still let me help her though?'_ He wondered. _'She's strong, but, this has shattered her...Gods alone know how long it will take her to recover. I wonder if she'll ever be the same again.'_

At that point he realized he was now in the main hall and Hodor had set him down in his seat before going to take his own.

He was seated next to Robb; Robb's wife Jeyne, the rest of his family, and the young man who he heard rescued Arya, Gendry, were seated on Robb's other side. Beside him was an empty seat, Meera's, and in the next seat was Jojen.

Still worried about Meera, he turned to Jojen. "Jojen," he began; realizing how much worry was in his voice. "Where's Meera?"

Jojen sighed. "We finished with the Maester and were shown to our chambers. Meera is still there as far as I know. She told me to come down without her."

"Do you think she'll come down to the feast, I mean she…?" Bran trailed off awkwardly, wondering how to word what he wanted to say.

It was then he heard his mother's voice. "Bran, please, relax."

He turned and saw his mother nod at him reassuringly. He managed to smile and calm down, settling back in his chair.

The feast then started; Bran ate, although he found, despite the lack of proper food beforehand, that he didn't have much of an appetite. Still he managed to eat something, although he just poked at it for the most part. Arya, he noted, had no trouble wolfing down her meal and for him that signalled a return to things being back to normal.

Behind him he heard footsteps and looked over his shoulder. He smiled as relief flooded through him; Meera had arrived and took her seat next to him. She wore a pale green dress; something that seemed unusual to him, being used to seeing her in breeches and tunics. She was still rather pale and her bruises stood out a little, her hair hung lank and dull, yet she smiled when she sat down and seemed more relaxed than before.

Bran smiled too, feeling elated at seeing Meera. Apart from what he noticed earlier she showed no ill effects; the physical damage she had received was definitely healing. It was the damage done to her mental well-being he feared for as well as the chance she had been impregnated by her assailants.

Finally he asked her outright. "Are you alright?"

She turned to face him and smiled lightly. "I'm fine, Bran." She said reassuringly, although her demeanour said otherwise.

He nodded slowly but saw her shift in her seat and fidget with the hem of her sleeve before finally wrapping her arms protectively around herself.

Bran felt his fears mount again. "Are you sure? You…you don't seem to be comfortable."

Meera sighed; there was a sad smile on her face as she explained.

"It's nothing; I'm just…there are just so many people and, after what happened I…" She paused and then shifted slightly again. "Plus I'm not exactly comfortable in a dress."

Bran did his best to stifle a laugh, but couldn't, and a soft chuckle escaped him.

"Arya's the same; I think you and her would get along really well." He replied to her.

That brought a genuine smile to her face and they continued to eat. Bran however had difficulty focusing on his food. His attention was drawn to Meera; checking for any signs of distress, ensuring she was eating enough, offering his coat in case she felt a draft. He couldn't help but smile each time he looked at her and caught himself admiring her features again; even the injuries made her beauty seem hauntingly delicate.

At that moment Meera turned to face him and he quickly turned his gaze down to his plate. Once again feeling the heat rise to his face, certain his cheeks were red.

"Bran, are you alright?" She asked. "You look…flustered."

He nodded. "Yes I'm, I'm fine. It's just; it's rather warm in here." She nodded and Bran feared she didn't believe his excuse. However, to his relief, she said nothing about it. Instead she smiled and nodded.

"Well, I must say I'm glad we're all here, safe." She said; Bran smiled, happy at the change of subject.

"Yes, you're right. How are you…holding up?"

She took a shaky breath and then finally replied. "I'm fine, but, I think I should leave, it's getting too much for me here."

Bran nodded; he was sad at the thought of her leaving but knew she was liable to break down if pushed too far. "I understand, good night."

She stood up, smiling softly. "Good night, Bran."

Meera quickly exited the great hall; Bran watched her go longingly. Once she was out of his sight he let out a sigh and resumed eating and picking at his plate. He too felt exhausted, and the feast had only served to overstimulate his already fatigued state. He wished to leave for bed, but sullenly remembered his princely duties to attend to.

So he stayed and listened while Robb attended to concerns being raised, both by his banner men and the people still living in the Twins. There was some discussion on what they would do next, how they would try to reclaim the North. The main obstacle being Moat Cailin…

"If we can't go through it, we'll have to work around it," Robb summarised.

"I may have a solution," Jojen stated. "Meera and I can take you to Greywater Watch; from there we have people who can guide you around Moat Cailin and strike it from the rear."

The plan had its merits certainly and Robb decided to give it great consideration. Bran could tolerate no more and so Hodor carried him to his chambers.

Once back at his chambers Hodor helped him get ready for bed. Once he was lying on the bed, and had the furs pulled up, he dismissed Hodor.

"Go and get some sleep Hodor, I'll be fine now."

"Hodor," replied Hodor, and with that the giant man nodded and left, whistling tunelessly to himself. Once the door was closed Bran gave his eyes time to adjust to the dark. After that he stared up at the unfamiliar wooden beams of the chamber ceiling. His feelings were all over the place; he was relieved and happy to have reunited with his family. Although his fears for Meera overshadowed most of his joy.

Three swift taps on the think wooden door immediately caught his attention. His eyes snapped down to it, surprised.

"It's open," he called out.

The door opened slowly and Bran relaxed when he saw Meera enter. She silently slipped into the room, latching the door behind her. It was then he realised she was clad in a simple sleeping shift and looked extremely nervous.

"Meera, what's wrong?" He asked her, worry clouding his tone.

She fidgeted slightly, shifting her feet. Finally she took a deep breath and explained.

"I...I've been having problems sleeping again; the nightmares just won't stop." She told him with such sorrow in her voice. "I...I know it's not proper but..."

Bran smiled lightly. "Do you want to stay with me tonight?"

She looked at him in surprise at his offer. "Are you sure it's...alright?"

He nodded encouragingly.

"Of course."

She seemed to relax slightly, her shoulders lost their tension and she approached his bed.

With Meera's help Bran moved into a more comfortable position and she climbed in under the furs. They embraced each other as tenderly as they could; Bran fearful of hurting her. They lay together holding each other and slowly, as time passed, Meera relaxed even more. Finally she drifted off; Bran smiled as he watched her.

_'She's still so beautiful, even like this.'_ He thought forlornly. _'I just wish I knew how to tell her that.'_

Still smiling he allowed himself to drift off to, letting sleep take him as he felt Meera's warmth so close to him.

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End of chapter and of story, however still one more chapter to come up; a little preview of what to expect in the next story, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


	23. Preview

**Preview of Story 2**

A brief preview of what awaits us in story 2, enjoy.

**Reviews**

**magnus374: Yeah, well, he does have strong feelings for her after all :)**

Now for the end.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

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So ends the first story; however we shall return to the series with the next. So stay tuned for:

**A Wolf Comes Home**

We shall stay with the Stark's as they attempt to retake the North and we shall have a new viewpoint as Robb's thoughts and feelings will also be revealed.

We shall also bear witness to events in King's Landing as the Lannisters and the Tyrells continue to play the 'Game'; who will emerge on top?

Also being brought to light will be the events that occur at Dragonstone, as seen by the Onion Knight. Things shall soon take a sinister turn with the Red Woman's latest plots.

Finally we shall journey even further north to the Wall and Castle Black and witness what lies in wait for Jon Snow and the Night's Watch, particularly as cold shadows being to stir.

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End of chapter and of story, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.


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